


All Roads Lead to Home

by shakes



Series: Staying Together [2]
Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:59:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 113,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakes/pseuds/shakes
Summary: Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".





	1. One

I stared straight ahead at the past while I gripped the steering wheel. I was like a fish out of water; I'd never felt so nervous in my life, not even when I'd proposed to my wife a couple of few years ago. So much had happened over the years; things I tried to control even when I knew I couldn't and just like that it all blew up in my face.

"Are you sure we should do this?" I turned my head, as unsure as I'd ever been about anything. I'd never needed reassurance before, but the weight that was tugging at my insides demanded it.

"He wanted this; made me swear." Her China blue eyes bore into me and I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"He hates me," I whispered more or less to myself as I shook my head and looked down the dirt path that lead to the weathered looking trailer. "He hasn't gave word in years. Don't expect much; I don't think this is gonna give us the happy ending you think it will."

"We have to at least try, and he doesn't hate you. Family is everything, and I'm sure he knows that. We have to do this; I promised." She urged.

I felt my hands shake as I placed them in my lap. The pounding in my chest was merciless, and I only wanted to shift the car into drive and beat it out of there. Things had changed; life had changed, and I tried to pin point the exact moment in time when things got so fucked up that it became too late for any of us. Our pasts were so muddied and covered in the shit life threw at us, nothing would ever be clear.

"It's time." Her soft voice and staggering beautiful eyes pleaded with me.

I nodded reluctantly and took a breath that trembled as violently as my hands. I opened the car door, letting go of that breath, and finally let go of things past as I headed for the present.

* * *

"I couldn't believe what he was tryin' to pull."

Two-Bit shook his head as he handed me a beer and then leaned against the house to watch me at the barbecue. It was the end of July, and my brother's fifteenth birthday. With no real money in hand, I was thankful to still be able to give him the one and only thing he'd asked of me: I took a day off.

"Sounds like you gotta real problem." I commented as I took a pull off my beer.

"Tell me about it. Told the asshole my name was Ben Owner, not Ben Dover."

I snickered as Two-Bit shared his woes over trying to sell that old Buick of his. He'd finally graduated high school and decided to get a job, but needed more reliable transportation. After the shock had passed, and we realized he wasn't joking, we all came to terms with how much things had changed, and were still changing for all of us. We were growing up.

"For cripe's sake. Get Steve and Soda to look at it."

"Yeah. I thought it'd be easier to just dump the bitch."

I shook my head. Some things _wouldn't_ change. "Tell me how that works. What's that part about life bein' easy? Why don't you go back to Rogers and enrol? You can be a senior for life. Give it a few more years and you'll own that place."

"Don't think I didn't consider it." Two-Bit grinned briefly as he looked out at the backyard. His face fell a little as he nodded. "How is he?"

I followed his gaze and smiled softly. Ponyboy was sitting by himself on the patchy grass watching a jay bird quietly, with a pencil and sketch pad in hand. My youngest brother was a skeleton of who he once was, but like Two-Bit some things never changed. A lot had been ripped away from my youngest brother, but the moment we discovered his love and talent for drawing remained, it brought a bit of light and hope back to all of us.

"Y'know," I shrugged and frowned to myself. "He's doin' the best he can."

"You gonna register him back in school? He's gonna be stuck with Steve, y'know."

We looked at each other and both started laughing at Karma biting Steve in the ass. For years and years Steve damn near bullied Ponyboy into misery for being what he considered a tag-along. It never even dawned on Steve that his best friend worshipped his little brother as much as his little brother worshipped him.

"Well, I have my reservations. If things were different; different people. I don't know how he'll handle it after everything that’s happened.”

"Think he won't be as smart as he was?" Two-Bit asked before taking a drink off his Budweiser.

"It's not that; Pony's plenty smart; even with the brain injury. I just don't know about all the bullshit with the socs. He's just so goddamned tense all the time, y'know? He doesn't need anymore to deal with."

Two-Bit nodded. "Yeah, we all thought Johnny Cade was jumpy. Can you imagine what he'd think of Pony?"

I smiled in fondness at the memory of our departed friend. He had an old gentle soul that was missed by all of us, and like Ponyboy he'd had a tough life. He was Pony’s best friend for so long, and Pony took to him almost as much as he took to his brother Soda. Johnny had been gone for awhile now, and I couldn’t help but feel a longing even though it was mostly selfish. Ponyboy really needed a best friend these days.

"Sadly enough, Johnnycake would be the one person I think Pony would open up to."

"Whadaya mean? I thought y'all were tight, Darry?"

"We are," I looked back out at the yard to watch my little brother as he sat alone. "I don't think we've ever been this good, but it's not the same thing as having your best friend."

"Well there's always Sodapop. You don't reckon they'll run off and get married, do ya?" Two-Bit cracked up laughing and I just rolled my eyes.

It was no secret to anyone how much my two younger brothers adored each other before the incident, but after almost losing Ponyboy to the hands of that sadistic beast, their love for each other became stronger than ever. It became a running joke with the guys, but it was juvenile and bothered the shit out of me. My brothers had been through so much and needed each other like they needed oxygen. I wasn't going to stand silent and let people judge what they didn't understand.

"Sounds to me like you're a little jealous. Somethin' you'd like to talk about, Keith?" I challenged him with a frown.

"Well, yeah. I thought _I_ was his best bud now. He don't call; he don't write. Barely cracks a grin at any of my jokes."

"'Cause we've heard 'em all. Why don't you try somethin' new for a change? Your old tricks’ve been puttin' us all to sleep." I grinned as Two-Bit suddenly clutched at his chest, mocking offence to my chiding.

"Watch this for a minute." I nodded to the grill as I slowly stepped away and headed for the yard.

I walked out a few feet past the old oak tree and slowly sat down beside my youngest brother. I watched on intently as he put the finishing touches to his sketch. My head shook itself in both awe and shame. The bird on Pony's page was as life-like as the one preening in front of us, and I inwardly cursed myself for not noticing these things before. Between the long hours and the hard work, and the trying too hard, and the incessant arguing, I'd always seemed to miss the bigger picture.

"What do you think she's thinking about?" Pony's raspy voice broke into my thoughts.

"Probably wondering where all the worms are hiding. Probably has a family to feed." I grinned as I watched Pony. He started to chew on the end of his pencil while focusing on the bird.

"Is it a mom or a dad?" Ponyboy's innocent question made me smile, and I brought my hand up to run my fingers in his hair.

His auburn locks parted naturally along the thick scars he received, as my fingers gently combed through the strands. The scars were a memento of his time in that nightmare of a foster home. It was work still in progress, but I was getting better at dwelling on what we had left as opposed to what was almost taken away along with the suffering we all endured.

"I think he's a dad, Pony." I explained as I dragged my eyes from my brother's scars to the blue jay out in the yard.

"How can you tell?" Ponyboy looked at me curiously, and I smiled.

"Well, it's a dad's job to leave the nest and bring back food. The mom stays behind to build and protect their home."

Ponyboy seemed to take a minute to digest my story. Truth was, I had no idea if the bird was male or female. The jays in these parts were all large and difficult to tell apart. It seemed like a logical conclusion however, and after pondering, he seemed satisfied and nodded while looking at his drawing. I slowly draped my arm around his shoulders.

"You getting' hungry, kiddo?"

"A little," Pony shrugged and then seemed to disappear as he stared blankly at nothing.

It was unclear if these episodes had anything to do with all of the trauma to his brain, but I sat next to him watching and waiting until it seemed to pass and he finally looked over to me and smiled.

"What time is it?"

"Almost supper time, little buddy." I grinned back at him. "You ready?"

Ponyboy shrugged his shoulder slightly while giving me a small grin. He opened his mouth to say something, when the commotion that was Soda and Steve returning from work made us both turn our heads.

"Alright, I'm here! You can start the party now!" Sodapop's arms were outstretched as he made his presence known to what was likely the entire neighbourhood.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up, holding a hand out for Ponyboy to grab on to. He snickered at his brother's antics, barely able to get up with my help. It didn't seem to matter anyway; once Soda caught sight of Pony, he came galloping like a colt over our way, jumping at his brother, and knocking the two of them on the ground.

"Happy birthday, Ponyboy!" Soda laughed as he lay on his little brother, messing up his hair.

"You two are nuts," I shook my head as my brothers started rolling around, wrestling in the dirt.

"It's a wonder you let these two out of the house." Steve frowned as he looked on at the spectacle that were my brothers.

I shrugged an insincere apology to him as I headed back towards the grill. Two-Bit passed me on my way; heading towards the guys. When I looked back, the four of them were involved in a full-blown wrestling match. I watched on intently, keeping an eye on my youngest brother to make sure the horseplay didn't get too rough. As I cooked him his birthday supper, he was laughing and having the time of his life with his favourite brother and our best friends.

It wasn't much, but I was just happy to have been able to put a smile on my youngest brother's face for his birthday. The things that mattered most to us; friends and what was left of our family helped make the day a success. It'd been so long since I'd seen Ponyboy relaxed and able to have fun. Even if it was only just for one day, it was a relief to forget about everything we'd been through.

Two-Bit and Steve had left about an hour before I left my brothers in the living room to clean up the mess we'd managed to create in the kitchen. I could hear the quiet snickering between Sodapop and Ponyboy as _The Honeymooners_ were on. By the time the show was over, I'd stacked the last clean dish to dry on the rack and dried my hands on my shirt while I headed into the living room.

I stifled a laugh when I found my brothers asleep. They were still sitting up; Pony’s head resting against Soda’s shoulder, and Soda’s head was resting against Pony’s. I noticed how their hands were joined in a fierce grip before I reached for the blanket thrown over the back of the sofa and draped it over the two of them. It wasn't that late, but with a hard day's work ahead of me, it was time for me to turn in. I knew that Sodapop would more than likely wake up and get Ponyboy safely to bed.

I had my shirt off before the door to my bedroom was even open, and the light was on as I shucked my clothes off and threw them in the hamper that was in the far corner of the room. As I made my way to the lamp on my bedside table, I noticed a sketch propped up on my dresser. It was the blue jay that Pony had drawn earlier on during the day. I held the picture in my hand, and felt the coarseness of the paper on my fingertips as they traced along the lines my brother had managed to mould into an image.

"You like it?"

Pony's voice rasped in the quiet of the room almost startled me. I turned my head and grinned at him peeking around the corner of my door. I didn't know where to start, or how to tell my youngest brother how talented I thought he was. I thought back to not so long ago, when all I did was push Ponyboy to get better grades in school even though he'd been put up a grade and had been on the honour role. At the time, this sort of genius didn't mean much to me. Now it meant everything.

"I thought you and your brother were asleep?"

"He's snoring." Pony frowned, and I huffed a laugh.

"C'mere, Pony." I reached my arm out for my little brother, and he slowly limped his way to me; his left leg never quite letting up.

I wrapped an arm around his shoulders when he was close enough, and pressed my mouth to the top of his head. We'd finally reached a place where it was okay for us to be close. I'd been afraid to show my feelings before, and for the life of me I couldn't remember why. But things had happened and things had changed, and I wasn't about to go backwards.

"Thank you, Darry." Pony mumbled, and I squeezed him closer to me.

"You had a good day?" I looked down at him and smiled when he smiled and nodded. "What's this for?" I motioned to the drawing I was holding, and my brother shrugged awkwardly.

"I want you to have it to remember me by."

"Remember you by? Planning on going somewhere, little buddy?" I teased, and he snickered back at me.

"No, but you said that it was probably a dad; going out and getting food for his family. It kinda reminded me of you, so I wanted to give it to you. Don't you like it?" Pony looked up at me worried.

"I love it, kiddo." I set the picture back on my dresser and turned to face my brother.

I wrapped both of my arms around him, and rested my cheek on the top of his head. It had been a great day, and a big step at getting life back to normal again. It wasn't lost on me that my youngest brother had been brought back to us more than once by some miracle, and I was thankful everyday. I knew exactly how lucky we were.

Pony tried to push me away, but snickered when I only held him tighter. Eventually I had to let him go; I had to be up early in the morning to get to work. He watched me as I turned on the bedside lamp for him; something I'd tried to remember to do since the odd night would find my youngest brother in bed with me when things got to be too much for him. It took awhile, but I'd learned to sleep with it on.

"You wake your brother up and get him to help you get ready for bed." I mumbled as I peeled back the covers and laid in mine.

"I can do it," Pony frowned and I sighed.

"I know you can, Pony but I just feel better if you're not left alone with it all. Savvy?"

"Okay," Pony shrugged as he turned around to leave. "G'night, Darry."

"'Night, kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow." I mumbled as my eyes closed.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"What time are you off?" I asked Sodapop as I reached around him at the bathroom sink to grab my toothbrush out of the ceramic holder. I looked at him quickly while I put a dollop of paste on it.

"Afternoon," Soda mumbled back, his mouth foaming with toothpaste.

We stood silent at the sink together for the obligatory two minutes of dental hygiene our mother drilled into us when we were little. I didn’t understand it fully at the time; what child ever does? But it seemed to pay off in the long run. The three of us had white teeth and no cavities; something I couldn’t afford to fix if they happened anyways so I was thankful.

Sodapop started off by waggling his eyebrows at me before his eyes crossed and he puffed his cheeks out, toothbrush shoved in his mouth and all. I rolled my eyes at him and grinned while he continued to look back at me through the mirror making faces. I’m sure we were way past the two minute mark; the both of us snickering and making faces at each other.

"I’m gonna spit on yer head," I was barely able to garble out; my own mouth full of minty foam and bubbles while Sodapop was spitting his own out into the sink.

Soda moved quickly, pretty certain that I’d make good on my threat. I gave him a playful shove away from the sink; asserting my status as the dominant big brother. Soda giggled at me while he put his toothbrush into the holder and wiped the remnants of toothpaste from his mouth on the back of his hand. I bent over the sink to spit while Sodapop headed for his room to put some clothes on.

My rear end was only protected by the thin cotton covering of my underwear when I felt the sting of the towel as it snapped against my right ass cheek. I jumped and hissed as I looked over my shoulder to find my brother challenging me with a grin; those eyebrows raising in defiance as he dropped the towel onto the floor. I slowly shook my head at him before calmly placing my toothbrush back into the holder.

"You’re dead," I flashed him an evil smile that had him bolting out of the bathroom.

I didn’t have to chase him far. Soda was in hysterics as he threw the door to his and Pony’s bedroom open, spinning a half-dressed and extremely confused Ponyboy around in order to use him as a shield against me. Sodapop continued taunting me with his mischievous smile, while Ponyboy looked at me like he didn’t know who we were.

"C’mon, Pony." Soda panted as he held his brother out in front of him. "Keep that big gorilla away from me."

Ponyboy looked at me both irritated and completely bewildered.

"Pony, step away from your brother." I instructed, barely able to hide the grin on my face. "I’m very serious. Unless you want trouble too."

Pony opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late and it wouldn’t have made a difference to us anyhow. This was a Curtis brawl, and there were no Curtis bystanders allowed. Soda shoved his little brother at me as a distraction, but he was no match for me. I had Pony flung over my shoulder while Soda tore out of the bedroom laughing his way to the living room.

"Darry!" Pony was both whining and laughing, but hollered out when those long legs of his cracked against the corner of the wall.

It didn’t phase me as I rounded another corner to find Sodapop slowly backing up towards the kitchen. The two of us were snickering between panting and trying to stare the other brother down. It would’ve been intense if the whole situation wasn’t ridiculous, and we’d all but blocked out Ponyboy’s protests, even when I felt his jeans slide down around his knees.

"Hey, Soda." I nodded as I manhandled our little brother off my shoulder, showing off as I used him as a barbell and almost managed to bench press him above my head.

"Darry," Ponyboy groaned, but I ignored him.

Soda rolled his eyes at me, letting his guard down as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at me in disgust. "You’re such a dick!".

"Yeah?" I grinned as I eased our poor baby brother down, and carried him with an arm under his neck and the other under his knees.

"You don’t like big gorillas? Why don’t you hold onto this little monkey for me then?" I laughed as I charged Sodapop, and dumped Ponyboy onto him.

"Darry!" Pony cried out as he tried to grab onto me but failed.

"No, Darry!" Soda hollered as his arms shot out needlessly to catch our little brother, but we both knew he couldn’t carry Ponyboy in his arms. He was just a bit too big for Sodapop.

I watched as the two of them toppled over each other, arms and legs splayed this way and that way until there was a heaping pile of my little brothers on the living room floor. I walked backwards until the back of my legs hit the armchair, and I plunked down laughing as the two of them struggled to untangle themselves from each other.

"You’re such an asshole!" Sodapop laughed as he shoved Ponyboy off of him and sat up to show me his middle finger.

"You two done? Can I put my clothes on now?" Ponyboy pouted with his jeans pooled down at his ankles, clearly not impressed with our antics so early in the morning.

Soda and I cracked up; maybe it was too early for the both of us too. I slid off the chair, crawling over to my brothers on my hands and knees. Suddenly I was a fourteen year old kid again, playing with Sodapop and Ponyboy without a care or responsibility in the world and no worries that were usually nagging me in the back of my mind. I couldn’t stop laughing, and the exasperated look on Pony’s face made me laugh harder.

"I’m sorry, Pony. C’mere." I chuckled as I tugged on his good arm until he was sitting up and leaning against me. He tried to push away, and set me and Soda off again.

"Weirdos," Pony muttered as he elbowed me in the stomach. I laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Got money for the house? Gotta have it in the bank by tomorrow." I looked pointedly at Sodapop while I rested an arm around Ponyboy as he leaned into me.

"Yeah, I get paid. I’ll have my part for you before I come home from work."

"Thanks, Soda. Just leave it in the envelope on the table."

"You bet," Soda nodded before eyeing our little brother.

"Wha?" Ponyboy mumbled, but it was too late.

By the time Soda gave me a wink, I had Pony pinned to the floor of the living room while Soda tickled our brother until his face was nearly blue. Unfortunately, Pony’s body could only withstand so much torment before it was time for me and Soda to settle him down. He was recovering, but it was a slow recovery making it hard to believe that just a year ago my youngest brother was the fastest track and field runner in his school. Now it was difficult for him to just walk.

"Well, hell! If I’d known you were havin’ an orgy I woulda brought some girls!" Two-Bit’s laugh startled the three of us as we sat in our underwear on the living room floor.

"Go see your brother." I rubbed Pony’s head as he coughed and sputtered, trying to catch his breath.

Soda shuffled closer as I got up from the floor and watched Pony, worried maybe we’d gotten out of hand and pushed him too much. I caught Two-Bit’s grin as Sodapop wrapped an arm around Ponyboy, and in less than a minute had Pony breathing normal again.

"Alright," I smiled. "You okay with this? You ain’t missing work or nothin’?" I asked Two-Bit as he stood beside me chuckling at my brothers.

"Hey," I gave Two-Bit a shove hard enough to wipe the grin off his face, plus make him answer me.

"Shit, Darry! Take it easy! Yeah, everything’s good. I’m working in the evening." Two-Bit frowned while he rubbed his shoulder.

"Good. I gotta hustle and head in to work. Don’t forget the payment, Soda." I reminded.

"Envelope on the table. Got it." Soda mumbled as he rested his forehead against his brother’s temple.

"Ponyboy, I want you to take it easy. Two-Bit, make sure he don’t over do it, okay?"

"I’m alright." Pony managed to choke out before coughing again.

"Don’t worry. He’s got me to babysit him." Two-Bit teased, but it seemed to cause more problems even though he was joking.

"I don’t need a babysitter. I ain’t a baby. Why can’t I just stay home on my own?" Pony challenged, but I didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with it.

"’Cause I’m your big brother, and I said no. I gotta get ready."

I hurried into my room and got my work clothes on. I’d barely zipped up my jeans when I ran into Sodapop as I was rushing out of my bedroom.

"Sodapop! Cripes, what the hell are you doing? I almost ran you over!" I was irritated, but the look on Soda’s face told me that he was as well.

"What the hell was that?" Soda asked angered.

"What was what?"

" _I’m_ _your_ _big_ _brother_. _I_ _said_ _no_." Soda mocked me.

"Sodapop, I don’t have time for this. You’re making a big deal out of nothing." I frowned as I brushed by him and headed for the front door.

"Are we gonna go back to how things were? ‘Cause I’m out of here if we are. I can’t take that shit again!" Soda’s voice shook and it surprised me.

"What do you mean? No, we’re not going back. What’s the matter with you?"

"Then go talk to your brother so he understands, and stop acting like an asshole!"

Soda’s final snap felt like he’d just slapped me across the face. I rolled my eyes as I shoved my feet into my boots. I was convinced that Soda was overreacting until I begrudgingly dragged my feet and my boots into the living room and found a disgruntled Ponyboy sitting on the couch with Two-Bit beside him, rubbing his shoulder. I realized then what Soda had known: I fucked up.

"Gimme a sec, would ya Two-Bit?"

Two-Bit grinned, giving Pony a quick pat on the shoulder as he got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. I sat down slowly in his spot and looked at my brother.

"Hey," I said softly as I pushed the hair back from his forehead.

"I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself." Pony half pleaded with me, and I realized where I went wrong earlier.

"I know you can, kiddo. You’re the strongest person I know." I wasn’t lying.

"Then why can’t I just take care of myself? Why do I always gotta have somebody lookin’ after me like I’m a little kid?" Pony was almost in tears.

"Pony, your seizures are just too unpredictable. We’ve been switching your medications so much, I just can’t have you here by yourself. What if you have a seizure and it doesn’t stop, and no one’s around? We came so close to losing you, Pony. I don’t know if I can go through that again." We were silent awhile after my confession.

"I didn’t think of that." Pony finally answered. It was so reminiscent of before, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

"It’s okay. That’s why you got two big brothers," I paused as Two-Bit walked back in with a plate of chocolate cake. "And that fool." I rolled my eyes, and Ponyboy snickered at our friend.

Pony shuffled closer to me, wrapping his good arm around me. It still took me by surprise; we’d gone so long being at odds mostly. I wrapped my arms around my brother and kissed the top of his head.

"Think you can tidy things up for me?" I mumbled into his hair.

I felt Pony nod and I pulled away, giving him a smile.

"Be good. Keep Two-Bit outta trouble."

* * *

My boots dragged across the dirt and rock of the driveway as I made my way out of the truck, and headed towards the house after a hard nine hours of work. The screen door slammed behind me and I winced, knowing how loud noises made Ponyboy nervous anymore.

The house was quiet except for the sound of the shower running as I kicked off those work boots and hung my tool belt up, then headed into the living room with my lunchbox to deposit it in the kitchen. I noticed Ponyboy at the table, sitting silent and staring his supper while I put my empty lunchbox on the counter and went to the sink to wash my hands.

"How was your day, kiddo?" I looked over my shoulder at my brother who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t answer.

I looked at him curiously as I grabbed for the tea towel that was hanging over the handle to the oven door, and proceeded to dry my hands. Ponyboy looked to be in the middle of one of his staring episodes, so I quickly helped myself to the supper that was ready for me, and made my way to the table to sit down. I grinned when I realized that my brother was in fact having a nap at the dinner table. I reached over and gently swept his bangs to the side.

"Hey, you! Whatcha doin’ sleepin’ at the table?" I teased lightly.

Ponyboy’s eyes opened slowly, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. I smiled at him and let him be while I devoured what had been left for supper. It was only soup and sandwiches, but I didn’t mind. We were a week away from stocking up on groceries, so I knew choices were a bit limited.

As I finished the last of the soup, and chewed the last bit of crust from my sandwich, I wondered if my brother would be able to handle going to school again. If he wasn’t nodding off here and there, he always seemed to be off in his own little world in one of his staring episodes. It now seemed like almost a lifetime ago that my brother was off in his own little world with his nose in a book, or at the movies. It was times like these where I realized that we were all still getting used to our new life.

"What’s goin’ on? He okay?" Sodapop entered the kitchen looking concerned, wrapped up in a bath towel, with his hair still dripping wet.

"Sound asleep," I sighed as I shoved a fist in my hair. "What else is new?"

"C’mon, Darry. Don’t be like that. He’s doin’ the best that he can. Give him some time."

"I’m not mad at Ponyboy, Soda. It just hits me sometimes, y’know? One day you’re goin’ to work, minding your own business, goin’ through the paces. The next, your brother is hauled off to the hands of some maniac and your whole life is turned upside down. It just hits me sometimes." I reached over to run my hand through Ponyboy’s hair.

The expression on Sodapop’s face was one I couldn’t quite read, but I knew he understood. He looked over to Ponyboy, and buried his face in Pony’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around him. Pony stirred slightly, but his eyes didn’t open again while we sat there in the silence both thankful and repentant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It all just hits me sometimes. Like when I'm in my truck either going to, or coming home from work, and that rail guard comes down and the bell rings and I feel the thunder as the weight of those rail cars pass, making the world tremble.

I sit and for an instant I think about my parents as I lose count of all those cars that those two engines are hauling. I wander back in my mind to that last weekend with dad as we headed to Austin. I hear his voice; see his smile as he tells me how proud he is of me. His oldest son, heading off to college and getting out of East Tulsa to make a better life than him and mom were able to do. I think of mom's quiet strength; not wanting to let go but knowing what was best for me.

In a flash I wonder if they knew what was about to happen to them. I wonder if they felt that engine run right through them as I continue to feel the ground shake as the train passes. I hear that lonely horn sound and the past rolls down the track along with the cars I've lost count of, but I know they'll be back again around the same time tomorrow and the days following. And I'll wonder again if I've done enough; if I'll ever _be_ enough to fill that gap in my brothers' lives.

It's another rare Sunday that I'm not working, and I wake up to the sound of birds chirping, and as usual there's one thought that leads me to swing my legs over the edge of my bed and put my feet down solid on the floor. Coffee.

It's still quiet in the early morning, even though the sun is just about up. I walk down the hall and find myself checking in on my brothers without control. It's as natural as breathing. The door opens like it's automatic, and it's the same relieved smile that comes across my face almost every day when I see two teenagers huddled together, always looking out for one another, even unconsciously. This is my life. This is the reason I'm alive. These two are who'd I kill for. These two are who I would die for. I would do it all without hesitation.

I skip my usual shower, but go ahead and splash some cold water on my face after relieving a full bladder. I head for the kitchen and lazily scoop out the ground beans, and look out the window as the smell of coffee soothes me. I stare out at the old oak tree and the tire swing I made both Ponyboy and Sodapop help me put back up a week ago, for no other reason than nostalgia. This is home; this is where we come from. This is where we belong.

I turned and looked out the kitchen towards the living room when I heard the grumbling, and noticed a pair of feet hanging over the edge of the sofa. I shuffled my way to the living room and noticed the thick swath of black curls poking out from the hideous blanket my mother had knitted years ago. For the briefest of moments I wonder why we never got rid of that ugly old thing, but then the thought disappears almost as quickly as it was summoned.

My heart gave a bit of a start. There lies my brother in arms. A bonafide hoodlum sleeping on my couch, but I knew what he really was and what he sacrificed for me. It was a pact that would bind us for life, and I would never be able to repay him. The cops and society would only ever see him as a waste of skin, but one night exactly one month ago he saved my baby brother. And he saved me.

I notice the paper on the coffee table has already been tampered with, and I frown and roll my eyes as I grab it and bring it with me to read in the kitchen over a cup of black coffee. I'm hungry, but decide to give my brothers some time to sleep in. I put the paper back in order; folding it along the crease before I start over again and flip to the sports.

I hear a thump and another grumble as I take a good sip from my coffee cup, and grin as a stream of expletives emanate from the living room. I don't say anything as I suddenly feel the firm grip squeeze my shoulder before Tim Shepard heads for the coffee pot to help himself. Apparently I'm not the only big brother in Tulsa that needs a hand up in the morning.

"What brings you to this knick of the woods? Rough night?"

Tim yawns while his fingers scratch the top of his head, dishevelling his already unkempt hair. "Nah, I was in the neighbourhood. Thought I'd check in."

We're quiet as we drink our coffee. Tim is still trying to wake up while I'm reading the football highlights. There are so many things that need to be said, but we're both doers, not talkers. We were both born on the wrong side of the tracks, where you fight to survive and actions always speak louder than words. Where I excelled in school and the traditional ways of education, Tim learned on the streets. But we were equals at this table. Far from being buddies or best friends, I still feel how one month ago has cemented us together forever in a new light.

"How's the kid?" Tim doesn't look at me when he asks about Ponyboy because he was there. He knows.

I sigh and close my eyes, nodding to him while I try and find the right answer. The truth was, I wasn't entirely sure how Ponyboy was. There was no black and white, and every day and every night is different from the last. Sometimes the moment would find Pony withdrawn and quiet, keeping to himself. Some moments would find him glued to either me or Sodapop; sometimes the both of us at the same time. I was annoyed by the cliché, but had no control over the fact that there was nothing to do but take it day by day.

"Still alive, thanks to you."

"I remember you playing a larger part in that. Remind me never to piss you off. I’m pretty fond of my jewels, if ya know what I mean." Tim grinned ruefully.

"You can piss me off all you want, Tim. Just leave my brothers out of it." I mumble as I'm suddenly taken back to that old machine shop, feeling the cold concrete beneath me as I held my naked brother to me.

Tim nodded, and we sat quietly through another cup of coffee. When he was ready, Tim got up from the table and patted my shoulder before heading into the living room to grab his stuff. I got up slowly and leaned against the wall and watched as Tim put his boots on. He slung his leather jacket over his shoulder and gave me a salute.

"I'll check in with you guys later. Lemme know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Tim. For everything."

I watch as he leaves, and can't help but think about Dallas Winston. Another kid forced to learn life's lessons on the street. Another hoodlum that didn't think twice about helping my youngest brother out when he got into trouble, and did it all without worrying what the consequences would be to himself. And I hear dad's words ring in my mind:

 _"Some_ _of God's angels are sent with broken halos son, so always judge a man by his actions, not by what he looks like from the outside_."

I smile when I hear his voice, think of Tim and Dally once more, and head back for more coffee.

I finish the paper, and fold the paper open to the funnies for whenever Two-Bit decides to break down the door and make himself at home. I get up from the table and head for the sink to rinse out my coffee cup. I'm just about to get serious about getting breakfast started when I catch a glimpse of Ponyboy out of the corner of my eye.

"'Mornin' kiddo. How'd you sleep?" I asked absently as I hauled the frying pan out of the oven and placed it on the stovetop.

His hand trembled, and felt like ice as it clutched the waistband of my sweat pants. I startled and jumped a bit, but Pony's anguish brought me to the present with focus as sharp as a knife. He struggled as his breaths scraped along the damage that had been done to his windpipe, and I gently held his face in my hands as I waited for him to gather the strength to look me in the eyes.

"I'm right here, Ponyboy. It's okay." I tried to reaffirm, knowing words meant nothing anymore, since one month ago his biggest fear had broke in our home and shattered any security he may have still felt.

Ponyboy nodded as he began to shake as unsteady as his lungs were taking in air. He nodded and nodded, almost as though he were trying to force his subconscious into believing my words. I let my hands fall to his neck, and for a moment it seemed as though my brother had control over his grief and this nightmare he was still trying to claw his way out of.

"He's gone, right Darry? He ain't…he ain't comin' back, right?" His words are but a whisper, and I realize that he gave up control a long time ago.

I don't know if it's a mistake, but I pull my brother into me and he suddenly remembers that he doesn't have to pretend. He knows that he's safe with me, and he knows he doesn't have to be strong. He knows that I'll be strong for him, so he lets it go.

It's been a month, and I realize that I'm not the only one that's been tracking the days that've passed and put themselves between now and that night. Pony's been counting too, I can tell as he weeps into my chest. My face is in his hair, and he lets me lead him to the living room as I rock him back and forth, kind of like a slow dance without the music. I'm suddenly reminded of why I've never bothered throwing out that ugly blanket that mom made as I grab for it off the couch and wrap it around mom's baby; my little brother.

It doesn't feel as awkward as it once did. I was never the touchy-feely kind, but it gets easy when the devil breaks down your door and tries to destroy what's yours. I don't even think about it now. We're laying on the couch with him wrapped in mom's blanket, his back pressed up against the back of the couch and his face pressed into my shoulder. My arm is his pillow as we're squashed together on that old sofa, and I play absently with his hair until he falls back to sleep, and I feel my mom and dad watching over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It was late when my feet dragged heavily up the steps to the porch. It was ten-thirty; sixteen hours of carrying roofing up ladders, pounding nails under the hot beating sun, and then off to the lumber yard to stack and stock. I was tired and I was sore and was relieved to finally be home, even knowing I’d have to repeat the day over and over again until well into the next week.

I caught the screen door so it wouldn’t slam, and expected my brothers to be in bed for the quietness that blanketed the house. Our house never seemed to be quiet before a year ago. The TV was always on too loud with the stereo blaring, and at least two people were wrestling if not the entire gang; tipping over chairs or breaking tables. Everything had changed. We all changed.

My tool belt hit the top of my boots once I managed to kick them off, and I made my way into the living room where I was shocked to find Steve Randal on the sofa watching the television on low with my youngest brother’s bare feet in his lap as he was sound asleep. The hand that Steve had resting on Ponyboy’s ankle quickly left as he realized I was in the room, but he didn’t make to move Pony’s feet.

"Hey," I looked around the living room cautiously as I greeted Steve.

"Yo," Steve answered quickly as he straightened out on the sofa, still leaving Ponyboy asleep and undisturbed.

"Everything alright?" I still felt like a bomb was about to go off, or hell was about to freeze over with the oddness of the picture in front of me.

Steve gave a slight nod as he stared intently at the television, trying to ignore me, and I felt my jaw drop briefly before I consciously closed my mouth.

"Oookay," I spoke under my breath, still a little weirded out as I made my way to the kitchen to put my lunch kit away and grab a quick bite to eat before going to bed.

"The kid made up a cold plate for you. Check the ice box." Steve walked into the kitchen, and I’m sure by the look on his face, I was still looking at him strangely. "What?" He asked irritated.

I raised my hands and shook my head in response. It was clear that Steve wanted to pretend he wasn’t caught red-handed being decent and downright tender with Ponyboy, and I was too damned exhausted to fight with him at the moment, but it all still left me with one burning question.

"Where’s Sodapop? He go to bed without Pony? That ain’t like him." I commented as I opened the ice box and smiled gratefully at the cold plate Ponyboy had managed to put together for me.

"Out. Didn’t say where. That peckerhead made me help, just so you know." Steve motioned to the platter of food I was holding, and I rolled my eyes as I shoved a piece of carrot in my mouth.

"Whadaya want, a medal?" I asked dryly as I chewed, ravenous due to the fact that I hadn’t eaten in nearly eight hours.

"His hand is pretty fucked up. Leg too. How the hell is he gonna manage school? You think I’m gonna carry him around, you’re fuckin’ crazy."

"Is there something I can do for you?" I interrupted.

Steve looked at me blankly. "Huh?"

"Why are you even here, Steve? Where’s Two-Bit? Lookin’ after Pony’s never really been your style. What are you doin’ here?"

"Soda asked me. Said he had something important to do. Wasn’t a big deal." Steve shrugged, and I watched him carefully for a while before nodding.

"How’d it go?" I asked as I continued eating the supper Pony had managed to make for me; with the help of Steve.

"He’s alive, ain’t he? You oughta keep a better eye on him anyways. Damn kid hustled me outta three bucks."

"Poker?" I chuckled as I rolled up a slice of ham and took a bite.

"Gin." Steve answered shortly as he got up from the table in a huff.

I gave a wholehearted laugh as I remembered how mom and Ponyboy would spend hours at the table playing gin rummy. They played so much, I wasn’t sure who was the better player, but one thing was for certain, no one else in the family was stupid enough to take either one of them on. They were in a class of their own. It gave me comfort to know Ponyboy had retained this small part of his past, especially at Steve’s expense.

"Your fault." I’m sure I was beaming at the thought of Ponyboy handing Steve’s ass back to him at cards.

"My fault? How ya figure that, Muscles?"

"You underestimate him. Always have." I shook my head and finished that slice of ham.

"Well, he _can_ take a beating like nobody I ever seen, so…" Steve looked at me cautiously to see if I was taking offence, but in a way he was spot on. "You’re probably right. Anyways, me and Soda gotta work early so I better split."

"Thanks, Steve." I mumbled as he headed out of the kitchen and for the front door.

"Yup," I heard him answer before the screen door slammed behind him, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

I shoved another piece of ham in my mouth while I quickly got up and peered into the living room to make sure Ponyboy was still asleep. He looked so young to me in spite of the fact that he was now fifteen. His face was still round and boyish, and I realized the difficulty I was having treating him like the fifteen year old that he was. I knew most of it was because of coming so close to losing him, but also because of his disabilities and the fact that he seemed so small to me. I sat back down and thought about it as I finished the supper he had made for me.

* * *

..."Shhh…you’re gonna wake Darry. Go back to sleep."

"It’s late, Soda. Where ya been?"

"I told ya. I had some stuff to do. Now go back to sleep. I gotta work in the mornin’."

I kept my eyes closed as I listened on to my brothers whispering to each other in the dimness of my bedroom from the bed side lamp I tried to leave on for Ponyboy. I had no idea what time it was, but it was after eleven when I carried Pony to my room and settled him in the middle of my bed before turning in myself. It wasn’t unusual for Soda to be out at all hours, but given the fact that his usual partner in crime was left to watch over our little brother, I was a little more than curious as to what he’d been up to.

"Soda, you mad at me?"

"Shhh…stop talkin’ like that. I ain’t mad, Pony."

"Then why’d you leave? Did I do somethin’?"

"No, Pony it was nothin’ like that. You know I love you more than anything, right?"

"You do?"

"Of course I do. You’re my little brother. You’re my best guy. That’s for life, honey. Nothing can ever change that. Now go back to sleep."

"Okay. Soda?"

"What is it, Pony?"

"Maybe don’t leave me with Steve next time."

"He wasn’t mean to ya, was he?" I could hear the smile in Soda’s voice.

"No, he was being nice. That’s almost worse."

Soda chuckled as he shuffled around the bed trying to get comfortable and no doubt was throwing one or both of his arms around Ponyboy. I grinned to myself, as I felt myself start to drift.

"Soda?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I love you."

"I know, babe. I love you too." Sodapop was already half asleep and mumbling. "Go back to sleep."

Sodapop’s light snoring started moments later, and I settled back and concentrated on my breathing to try and fall back asleep. I’m not sure how long it’d been, but I felt Ponyboy reach out and hold my fingers in an attempt to hold my hand. My eyes opened when I heard his voice.

"I love you, Darry."

* * *

The smell of coffee and bacon hit my senses and I stretched out in bed to find myself alone. I smiled when I realized it was finally the one Sunday I had off in what felt like a month, even though it’d only been a couple of weeks.

The pressure eased up a little with the State off my back, but bills had to be paid as well as the upcoming school year for Ponyboy that had already cost me a new pair of sneakers for him, and school supplies. I was working as much as I could so he wouldn’t have to go without. Lord knows, I had enough to worry about with him going back to school.

I grinned as I walked in the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I caught both of my brothers helping each other to make breakfast. I walked up behind Ponyboy as he was trying to crack our eggs without wrecking them, and I rested a hand on his shoulder as I reached up and over him to grab a coffee cup from the cupboard.

"’Mornin’, Pony." My hand moved up to gently rub the back of his head while I poured coffee in my cup with the other.

"’Mornin’, Darry.” Ponyboy gave a soft smile as I took a drink and moved my hand to ruffle his hair.

"Bacon’s done, Pony. How ya doin’ with the eggs?" Soda turned to see how our brother was doing, and gave me a wink.

"I dunno. I think I shoulda cooked the bacon instead." Ponyboy frowned as he inadvertently dropped a shell in the bowl the eggs were in.

"Awe, kiddo. We gotta do somethin’ about that hand of yours. C’mere."

Soda stood behind his brother, taking Pony’s right hand in his own, and between the two of them, they managed to successfully crack an egg.

"Thanks, Soda." Pony grinned.

"Ya just need more practice, Pony. It’ll come. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it. You’ll be crackin’ eggs with one hand in no time." Soda smiled back.

"You two need any help, or you got everything under control?" I grinned as Soda and Pony started picking the shells out of the bowl of eggs.

"Nah, we’re good Darry. Sit down." Soda nodded to the table and then threw his arm around Ponyboy.

I watched on while I sat with my coffee. I watched as Sodapop stood over his brother, teaching him and helping him cook breakfast. It felt strange; things were so different, and yet here it felt just like before with my two brothers standing there trying to get breakfast on the table.

"Okay, Ponyboy. Think you can get some toast started. I’ll cook this up."

"No way," Pony shook his head as he gave his brother an odd look.

"Whadaya mean? You can do it, it’ll be okay." Soda looked worried.

"I don’t want green eggs, Sodapop." Pony frowned and I let out a laugh.

"Oh my God! Betrayed by my own flesh and blood!" Sodapop shook his head in mock offence while grabbing Ponyboy by the arm to give him a sideways hug before shoving him in front of the stovetop to be in charge of the eggs.

"Hand it over." Pony grinned at his brother and held out his hand.

Sodapop smiled and passed the tiny bottle of food colouring over to Pony. Pony returned his brother’s smile, and I snickered to myself unknowingly when I noticed his eyes roll. I brought my coffee cup up to take another drink when I heard Soda yell.

"Pony? Jesus Christ, Darry!"

My coffee cup and its contents hit the kitchen table as well as the front of my sweat pants as I bolted up from the kitchen table to make my way to my brothers. Soda, for the most part had broken his brother’s fall, but Ponyboy still hit the floor with a sickening thud along with the hot fry pan.

"What happened?" I demanded unnecessarily.

Ponyboy was in the middle of a full blown seizure while Sodapop was frantically brushing food and grease off that came down along with Pony.

"Is he burnt?" I yelled as I moved one of the chairs that was too close to Pony’s head. Soda didn’t answer. He was frantic as he continued brushing off food and debris.

"Soda! Is he burnt?" I yelled again to get my brother’s attention.

"No!" Sodapop cried. "No, I don’t think so. He looks okay."

"Alright, kiddo it’s okay." I was on the floor by Ponyboy’s head, watching him closely as his whole body seemed to clench and unclench rhythmically.

Soda continued looking his little brother over, making sure he didn’t have any burns from the hot frying pan and breakfast landing on top of him. He was shaking like a leaf, no doubt as scared shitless as I was at that moment.

"No warning." Soda spoke in my own thoughts.

Ponyboy’s seizures had never exactly been predictable, but this was the first time he’d had a full on one out of the blue while carrying on normal day to day things. I felt the tension in my neck and shoulders, and my head started to ache. What did this mean for him?

"It’s okay." I said automatically. I didn’t know who I was trying to calm at this point. It could’ve been all three of us.

Pony then mumbled incoherently as he was slowly coming out of his episode.

"Shhh…" I started.

"Hush now, Pony. Just take it easy, kiddo." Sodapop shuffled over next to me so he could talk to our brother. "You okay?"

Ponyboy barely nodded, but he nodded nonetheless which told us he was understanding his surroundings. Soda and I both breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked at the both of us.

"I’m sorry," Pony’s voice was barely audible, but we both understood and heard him loud and clear.

"Sorry? What on earth have you got to be sorry about?" I gave him a grin as I shoved a hand in his hair.

"I think I fell." His eyes closed as he slowly shook his head.

"You hurt anything, Pony? You okay?" Soda asked worriedly.

"I’m tired." Pony answered solemnly, and I felt so bad for my brother and the toll the last year was still taking on him.

"Can you just put him on the couch? I’ll stay with him if you had stuff to do on your day off." Sodapop suddenly looked as sad as his brother, and the mood seemed to envelope the house.

"I ain’t leaving you two, little buddy." I gave Soda a soft punch on the shoulder before I scooped Ponyboy up to lay him down on the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I sat impatiently in the stale office awaiting my meeting with none other than Mr. Don Kenyon. Kenyon had been the principal at Will Rogers High for as long as anyone could remember although the man wasn’t much older than fifty. He wasn’t exactly known for being likeable, in fact I remembered him as not having much of a personality at all and was happy to not have a lot to do with him since my own days at school. I guess there were some perks to having Sodapop decide to drop out, although I was never happy about the fact. Of course there were no worries regarding Ponyboy. Like me, he got straight A’s and was on the honour roll, and the only trouble he’d ever been in was when Johnny killed the soc that was trying to drown him.

My knee bobbed up and down as I counted the seconds on the big clock that was hanging over the secretary’s desk. The last time I’d been in this office was when I’d gotten in a scrap with Paul Holden, an old friend and teammate of mine. I’d always gotten along with everyone, and Paul was no exception, but he was rich and I sure as hell wasn’t, so when I was made head quarterback of the football team, Paul was none too happy about it and let me know. Unfortunately being from the wrong society did me more harm than good, even if I was a straight A student. Paul Holden got away with that one, but I’d get him back many years later.

"Mr. Curtis."

I looked over as Kenyon stood in the doorway to his private office. It never seemed to click in my head that I was now "Mr. Curtis". Part of me was always looking over my shoulder thinking my father would walk in from out of nowhere. With both Sodapop and Ponyboy as my dependants, I was now _the_ Mr. Curtis. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it.

"Sir," I nodded.

Kenyon looked at me with a sort of arrogance, and I almost felt like a student again. That is until I stood up from my chair and towered over the man whose only use for me was years ago when I was that star quarterback on his school’s varsity team. It was the rights of bragging, but now I was nothing more than poor white trash to him. When I was younger I was ashamed of where I came from. Of course I loved my parents and I knew it wasn’t their doing; that’s just how the cards were dealt for them. But it took losing them for me to finally accept where I came from, and accept it with pride.

"Close the door." He commanded abruptly as I slowly followed him back into his office. I quietly closed the door.

"Have a seat." He nodded to a wooden chair across the desk from him, and I slowly sat down. "Well, now. What is it that I can do for you Mr. Curtis?"

"Darrel," I automatically corrected, like I normally did and was rewarded with a look of contempt. "I’m here about my brother."

"Ah, yes. And you’re aware that your brother _Ponyboy_ isn’t present for his first day?"

It would’ve been easy enough to reach over the table and punch Kenyon in the throat. His snide pronunciation of my brother’s unique name was neither professional nor respectful. But I’d come to know Kenyon’s type very well, both while at school and out in the real world dealing with pricks that thought living on the west side of the tracks made you a better man. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly while my hands balled into fists in my lap, and then relaxed.

"That’s my doing, sir. My brother’s been having some medical issues that I wanted the school to be aware of before I have him come back here."

"If you’re here looking for preferential treatment for your little brother, Darrel you’re barking up the wrong tree."

 _Was_ _this_ _guy_ _for_ _real?_ _Preferential_ _treatment?_

"I’m not asking for special treatment. My brother has a serious medical condition. I just wanted to come here to make sure he’d be safe before coming back to school." The control I was forcing myself to stay in was ever-so-slightly leaving me.

"What _medical_ _emergency_ do we need to be aware of?" Kenyon almost rolled his eyes, and once again I was ready to pop him a good one in the face and call it a day.

"He has uncontrolled seizures. He’s on medication to help keep them at bay, but it’s been a challenge. There are other handicaps; if you’d like to speak with his doctor..." My voice was tense as I stared unbelievingly at the man in front of me.

"It’s not my job to figure out your brother’s ailments Mr. Curtis. I’m not…"

"Jesus Christ! I ain’t askin’ you to do surgery! Is my brother safe to attend school here, or is he not?" My voice boomed in the small office as I’d finally found my limit for this ignorant knuckle-head.

"There’s a nurse on staff if your brother runs into trouble." Kenyon’s voice cracked as he looked at me timidly.

"And ya couldn’ta just started with that?" The chair behind me tipped over as I leapt to my feet, and there was a sickening sense of satisfaction that ran through my blood when Mr. Kenyon sank into his chair in fear.

"I’ll have my brother here first thing tomorrow. Y’all have our emergency numbers. I trust you’ll inform the nurse." I instructed as I made my way to the door.

The secretary jumped as the door to Kenyon’s office slammed behind me, and I gave her a look that was as apologetic as I could muster up at that point. I could feel my blood pressure rise; my heart was pounding in my chest, and I was seeing red. My stomach gave a familiar pull, and I took a deep breath to try to calm down as I made my way to the parking lot.

I wondered if and when the struggle between social classes would end. I couldn’t believe the nerve or the ignorance I just had to deal with. There was no better kid on this or that side of the tracks than my little brother, and I felt my throat close off when I thought about what was done to him. His struggle in life would never be over, and nobody would ever give a shit because we were poor.

I was still harping on about it to Sodapop when I’d gotten home early from half a days work. Although Soda tried to stay calm, I could see the fire burning in his eyes as I’d told about that horse’s ass of a principal.

"Can’t count on anyone." Soda shook his head in disbelief. "This guy’s supposed to care about kids."

"Yeah, well so was the State of Oklahoma and lookit what they did to Ponyboy. And we _had_ a decent social worker. I’m tellin’ ya Sodapop, if you ever get the chance to leave, you better hightail it outta here or I swear I’ll kick your ass."

It was an empty threat, but in my heart I hoped my brother would break out of Tulsa. But it was a dreamer’s dream; Sodapop was a dropout with little chance of going anywhere. And with the war continuing on the other side of the world, I couldn’t help but dread that there was more in store for us. I didn’t know how much more we’d be able to take.

"Pffft…" Soda playfully rolled his eyes at me. "You’ll try."

I grinned at him, and in spite of being so worked up over Ponyboy, and him returning to school, and that jackass of a principal, I felt myself relax. Soda could always relax me; it was like a special power he had, like Superman with his X-ray vision.

"You okay to fix dinner?" Soda asked.

"Yeah, that’s okay." I shrugged. "What did you want?"

"I’m headin’ out, so don’t sweat it. Maybe ask Pony what he feels like."

"Where the hell are you off to now? Sodapop, I swear to God if you’re in trouble…" I started, but Soda just laughed at me.

"Why you gotta be like that, huh? Why am I in trouble just ‘cause I’m goin’ out?"

"Well, where ya goin’?"

"None of your damned business is where I’m goin’."

"See? Right there!" I pointed at my brother. "Why the secrecy if you ain’t gettin’ in trouble?"

"Darry, relax. I ain’t doin’ anything bad. Good grief!" Soda suddenly looked despondent.

"Well, who are you with? I know it ain’t Steve; he’s playin’ babysitter for Pony half the time while you’re out at night."

"It’s nothin’ Darry. Just drop it."

"Is it a girl? You can tell me, y’know? Just make sure you’re careful, and don’t get yourself mixed up with another Sandy." I rolled my eyes at the thought of how he almost got suckered into marrying that girl after she cheated on him.

"Lay off, Darry! You don’t know nothin’ about her!" Soda looked at me furiously, and I immediately knew I crossed the line.

"I’m sorry, little buddy. I just don’t want you to hurt like that again, that’s all." I could still remember the look on his face when he found out she’d been two-timing him.

A horn honked outside in front of the house, and Sodapop slowly got up from where we’d been talking at the kitchen table, and made his way into the living room. I followed suit, looking out the window and was shocked when I spotted the familiar car.

"Greg?" I was flabbergasted as I looked at my brother while he stared at the same car.

"You don’t gotta worry, Darry. After what I’ve seen, it’ll be too soon if I’m ever with anyone ever again."

Something in my brother’s voice scared me, and then it dawned on me. I really had no idea what happened the night Campbell broke into the house. I had a story made up in my head about what went on based on what _I_ saw, but it suddenly terrified me to think there was much more to that night that my brothers didn’t tell me.

"Soda…" I choked as I suddenly remembered them on the floor clinging to each other desperately; unable to get close enough.

"I’ll try not to wake you. Don’t wait up." Soda said as he made his way out the door, and to Dr. Greg Allain’s car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

A boy as light, sweet, and bubbly as soda. There you have my brother. I don't know if that's why dad named him Soda; how can you tell what a new born's personality is going to be when they've barely breathed their first breath outside of the womb? Or perhaps it was a prophecy of some sorts. Dad seemed to have a knack for naming his two youngest offspring in very unique terms while being bang on at the same time.

He was about two years old. It was just before mom was pregnant with Ponyboy, and already Sodapop was a whirlwind. Curious and sensitive, and sweet as soda, I remember watching him follow the ants as they busied themselves on our sidewalk. Eventually he'd be on his belly on that sidewalk with his head in his hands, watching closely as they continued scattering about; oblivious to anything but the work they had to do.

I remember watching him, half amused and half in disgust as he'd lower his head and kiss the ants. Of course only being five at the time, I'd run to my mom and tattle about what he'd done. Mom would simply giggle and pick Sodapop up from the sidewalk with one or two ants crawling up his lip. Crazy with a huge heart; that was Sodapop from the very beginning.

By the time he was seven, Sodapop already had the girls from school fighting over his affections. At that age, he was too young to get it, but it didn't take him long. My brother had a way with the girls from the start. I'm sure a lot of it had to do with the fact that Sodapop was, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It's odd to call a boy that—especially from these parts, but my brother had a physical quality that would make people stop dead in their tracks when he walked by. His brown eyes were always sparkling, and he rarely ever stopped smiling. But one thing about Sodapop that not many people gave him credit for, was the fact that his inside was as beautiful as the boy on the outside that people would stop and stare at.

Sodapop cared about people, and he understood them no matter what walk of life they were from. He'd be the first to give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, but sometimes it was to a fault. It meant that he got hurt often, like with what happened with his first true love, Sandy. Soda trusted and loved without thought. He gave it away freely without pondering the consequences. It's what made him special, but it also tore him to pieces at the same time. He never thought ill of anyone, and gave people the benefit of the doubt unless you messed with his family. If you did, then God be with you because no one on earth would be able to save you once he got a hold of you.

I sat in the chair staring blankly out the front window, wondering what on earth Soda was up to along with Greg. I couldn't help but fear that even more had happened the night Martin Campbell broke into our home. Images I had spent weeks trying to get over seeped into my mind, and my gut started to ache with the question: did Campbell hurt Soda too? Was he still hurt? Is that why he was spending all of his free time with Greg?

" _You don't gotta worry, Darry. After what I've seen, it'll be too soon if I'm ever with anyone ever again."_

It wasn't just Soda's cryptic message that was haunting me, it was the way he said it. His voice was emotionless. His face was stone and those sparkling eyes were as cold and dead as our mother and father now were. What was almost as painful, was the fact that my brother wouldn't talk to me about it. Why wouldn't he come to me? He knew I'd do anything and everything for him and Ponyboy. It wasn't making sense. An idea suddenly occurred to me.

Ponyboy.

I eased up from my chair and made my way down the hallway to the boy's room. The door was open a crack, but I knocked softly so as not to spook my baby brother. He was already so jumpy anymore. I entered slowly and smiled softly. Ponyboy was getting his school supplies organized for his big day in the morning, down to the clothes he was going to wear in a neat pile on the desk at the side of the bed.

"Hey, Pony," I slowly walked passed the door and made my way into the room. "Whatcha up to?"

"Just getting ready for tomorrow." Pony shrugged as he limped back to the bed and sat down.

"You gotta big day tomorrow. You nervous?" I asked curiously. It was so hard to gauge where my brother's thinking was anymore. His brain injury had changed him so much.

"No," he answered quickly, but then shrugged again. "Yeah a little, I guess."

I sat down beside my brother, and gently placed an arm around his shoulders, and felt him lean into me.

"It's gonna be okay, Pony. Just work hard like you've always done. You'll do fine."

I felt the weightlessness of my words as I heard them fall from my mouth. I had no clue how my brother was going to fare when he walked through those school doors the next day, and I was suddenly scared for him.

"What if I ain't as smart? What if I'm dumb, Darry?" Pony looked up to me, and I tightened my arm around him.

"You're anything but dumb, Pony. I just want you to promise to do your best and it'll be okay. We'll figure it out together, alright?"

"Okay." Ponyboy nodded, and rested his head against my shoulder.

I let my head lean onto his, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Pony, do you know what your brother's been up to?"

It was the first time I'd ever gone to Pony to dig up info on Soda. Usually it was the other way around; Sodapop reporting back to me about what was going inside of our little brother when he felt he couldn't confide in me. It felt strange; I felt like I was betraying them both in a way.

"Working, ain't he?" Ponyboy shrugged and looked at me worriedly.

"He's out with Greg." I answered and tried to gauge my brother's face.

"Dr. Allain?" Pony looked as confused as I felt, and I realized that Sodapop was keeping secrets from both of his brothers.

"Yeah, Dr. Allain."

"He ain't sick, is he Darry? Oh my God, what if he's sick?" Pony began to panic, and I realized I'd made a huge mistake by trying to get information from him.

"No, baby. Soda's fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. Soda's fine." I lied. I had no idea if our brother was fine. "What did you want for supper, little buddy?" I asked suddenly, trying to change the subject.

"I dunno. Soup maybe?" Pony shrugged, and I could tell that he was now asking himself the same questions that I was about Soda. What was going on?

"Alright. Come help."

I gave Pony a pat on his knee and eased up from the bed. I turned to give him my hand, and he took it and slowly got to his feet. He followed me to the kitchen and rifled through the cupboard while I grabbed a pot to warm the soup in. He placed the cans of soup on the counter next to me, and gave me a goofy grin.

"What's that face for?" I grinned back at him.

"Maybe they're picking up some nurses?" Pony started blushing, and I chuckled at his expression.

"Well, it _is_ your brother. I wouldn't put it past him." I smiled even though I knew it was unlikely. Soda still wasn't over Sandy.

"How come you don't see your nurse, Darry?" Pony asked, and I felt a pang of regret at the thought of Beth. I also felt a pang if discomfort with my baby brother asking me about my love life.

"That's private, Ponyboy." I answered quietly while I grabbed the cans of soup and started to open them.

"But you like her, right?" Pony wasn't dissuaded by my need for my private life to be private at all.

"Yes, I like her a lot."

"You should have her over for supper then. Soda says she's pretty. You want me to set the table?"

I watched my brother grab the dishes with his one good hand, and hobble around the kitchen table to set it. His words were pure and innocent; like they'd come from the boy I'd known years and years ago. But they were honest and uncomplicated, like the boy I knew now. My heart gave a pull, and I walked over to my brother and tugged on his arm to pull him to me.

"I love you. You know that, right?" I mumbled into his hair.

"Love you too." Pony retuned my hug, and we stood quietly for a moment before he started to squirm. "Darry, I'm hungry."

"Alright, alright. On it, little buddy." I laughed and made my way back to the stove.

It was well after eleven when I heard Greg's car pull up into the drive. The headlights shone through the front window and cast shadows in the living room as I sat alone in the dark doing exactly what my brother told me not to do. I was waiting up for him.

I sat listening for voices when there were none. I let my imagination run wild with all the worst case scenarios that could be going on with Sodapop, and part of me wondered if he'd invite Greg in. Part of me wished he would so I could ask Greg what was going on with my brother, but suddenly I could feel a little green monster emerge with that thought, and I decided that I wanted Greg at bay.

I heard a car door close, and soon the headlights disappeared as the front door quietly opened and then clicked shut. I sat silent as the shadow of my brother entered the room and turned on the lamp by the sofa. He jumped about a foot in the air when he saw me.

"Jesus Christ! What is this, give Sodapop a heart attack week?" He hollered at me while his hand clutched his chest.

I sat quietly; searching for any sign that could tell me what was going on with him, but I could see nothing. Suddenly, I noticed that Sodapop started inspecting me.

"Darry? You alright? I told ya not to wait up. You got work in the morning. You okay?"

"I'm fine." I said stoically while I watched him carefully.

"Is it Ponyboy?" Soda's face was suddenly marred with fear. "Is he okay? Did something happen while I was out? Where is he?"

"He's fine. He's asleep in my room again. He's fine." I repeated before falling silent, just watching him.

"Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?" Soda's eyebrows furrowed.

"You tell me, little brother." My hand moved up to rub my forehead as I felt the growing tension begin. "What's goin' on with you?"

"I told you. Nothin'. Why you gotta jump to the worst possible conclusion, huh? You stay up all night and wait to attack me as soon as I walk through the door…"

"I'd hardly call this attacking, Soda. I'm worried about you."

"Darry, not now!" Soda rolled his eyes and tried to wave me off, but I wasn't having any of it.

"If not now, then when? I know that something's going on, Sodapop. What I don't know, is why you won't talk to me about it."

"Darry…" Soda tried, but I'd gotten myself too worked up and worried by that point.

"Did I do something? Are you angry with me?"

"Now you sound like Ponyboy." Soda griped as he threw himself onto the couch, pouting as he stared up to the ceiling.

"Maybe he's noticing things too."

"Nothing is wrong, Darry!" Soda looked at me pointedly. "Don't ruin it!"

"Don't ruin what?" I demanded, even more confused and frustrated than before. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"'Cause there's nothing to talk about! Get off my fuckin' back!" Soda yelled.

"Nothin' wrong you tell me, but what? You can go out with Greg and have no problem talking to him about thints?"

"What?" Soda was incredulous.

"It's bad enough you're keeping secrets, Soda. But to go to a stranger?"

"He ain't a stranger, Darry." Soda shook his head at me, but he just didn't get it.

"He ain't family, Pepsi." I felt myself choke up. It was killing me thinking that my brother wouldn't come to me with his troubles. "He ain't family."

"He saved Ponyboy's life, Darry. He saved our brother. You don’t think that makes him family? I sure as hell do!"

Soda gave me a look that reminded me of my father. _Judge a man by his actions_. I couldn't argue with him anymore. It was clear to me that he didn't want to trust me with whatever was going on, and as jealous as I was that Greg was the one Soda felt he could count on at this time, I couldn't deny all that Greg had done for our family.

"Darry," Soda grinned and got up from the couch.

He smiled that smile that only Sodapop had, as he made his way over to me and knelt in front of me as I sat in my chair.

"I promise I'm up to good things, Darry. Good things. You don't gotta worry about me. I'm with Greg, and he’s helpin’ me is all."

"Yeah? What's so great about him?" My tongue was coated in jealousy, and Sodapop wasn't oblivious to it. He was laughing his ass off at my expense.

"It's Greg. He's a doctor. Saves lives, blah blah blah. But he ain't you, and he ain't Pony. I swear, Darry. You two are the only boys I share a bed with." Soda chuckled and I realized how ridiculous I was being.

"Promise?" I frowned, and Soda laughed harder, managing to get a grin out of me.

"I'm here for you, Pepsi. It don't matter what. You and Ponyboy are everything, okay? Whenever you wanna talk…"

"Darry, I promise. Everything is okay. I know you'd do anything for us. Shit, you already have. I ain't in trouble. You'll see, I promise." Soda's eyes sparkled, and I felt myself relax. He just had that way about him.

"C'mon," he stood up slowly and pointed behind him with his thumb. "Let's get to bed. We gotta big day tomorrow, especially Ponyboy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It’s fair to say that I didn’t sleep a wink that night. My mind wouldn’t shut off. I had to trust that Sodapop wasn’t lying; that he really was fine and that him and Greg were just hanging out and being friends. It still bothered me that he wouldn’t tell me what they were up to, but I had no choice but to trust that Soda had his reasons even if I didn’t agree with them.

My other worry was the little brother that was right then using me as a pillow. I was relieved that he was able to sleep so soundly when I was there suffering with my own _stinkin’ thinkin’_ , as dad liked to call it. I remember how he’d always mentioned it when he’d had a sleepless night worrying over how he was going to provide for his family. I’d had those same worries keeping me up at nights since my parents were killed, but these days there were so many other stresses added to the usual pile.

I was scared about how the world outside our four walls was going to react to my _new_ brother. Although I’d always watched out for him before, it was a lot different now. I’d almost lost him and it terrified the hell out of me to think about how close he’d come to dying. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to get over that, so my whole world became him and Soda, and doing everything in my power to protect them. I had no idea how people were going to treat Ponyboy, but I had a sickening feeling, that nobody was going to accept him with open arms.

My brother was now an easy target. We’d already dealt with a taste of what was in store for him over the summer. He’d had people throw names like _retard_ and _freak_ his way the very few times I managed to convince Pony to leave the house. But in addition to that, my brother was involved in the murder of a very well-liked boy, and although he didn’t kill him with his own hands, I wasn’t naïve enough to think his involvement would be forgotten.

I was aware that if I made a wrong move, it could very well make things worse for my little brother. Pony was starting to struggle with who he now was; a fifteen year old that wanted his independence, but at the drop of a hat that fifteen year old was reduced to something more like how he was when he was six or seven. He scared easy, was jumpy, and terrified of people outside of our group. Emotionally he was a little boy again, and although I wanted nothing more than to hold his hand like mom did for all of us on our first days of school and walk him through that door, I knew that he needed to do this on his own.

He was on my mind the entire day. I wished I had Sodapop’s ESP; he always knew what was going on with Ponyboy, like a sixth sense that no one else could see or touch. I was lost in my thoughts, wondering what class he’d be in, if he was able to grasp what the teachers were teaching, and if he was being hassled by the kids at school including Steve. I wished desperately that he’d have a smooth day with no bumps, and prayed that wish to be answered.

"Soda," I could hear Pony whining from the bathroom as I walked through the front door and hung my tool belt up while kicking off my boots.

"Just hold still. Just another minute Pony, I promise."

"You said that a minute ago! What are you doing anyway?"

"Just looking. Quit yer gabbin’ and hold still."

I peeked curiously around the partially opened door of the bathroom to find Pony sitting on the toilet with the seat down, and Sodapop looking in his eyes with a flashlight.

"What’s goin’ on? Pony? You okay?" I asked alarmed as my shoulder pushed through the door, making it collide with the wall behind.

"I’m okay." Pony shrugged.

"He’s fine." Sodapop replied at the same time.

"Soda, what the hell are you doing?" I demanded, annoyed that he had me worried that something was wrong with our youngest brother.

"Darry, you ever looked at his eyes before? It’s like they don’t know what color to be."

I approached my brothers and gave Soda a look that told him I thought he was off his rocker as he handed me the flashlight. I slowly took it from him and flashed the light into Ponyboy’s eyes and took a gander. His eyes were green. I looked at Sodapop and shrugged.

Soda scoffed at me while he rolled his eyes and grabbed for the flashlight. He flashed the light back into Pony’s eyes and motioned for me to take another look. I leaned down a bit and looked closer. Muddled in with the green were flecks of blue. My eyebrows shot up and I looked at Sodapop.

"Never noticed that before." I looked at Soda, awed by his intense attention to detail when it came to our little brother.

"Notice what? What’s wrong?" Ponyboy looked up at me worriedly as Sodapop shone the light back into his eyes.

"Nothin’ Pony. You’re fine." I frowned as I back-handed Soda on the arm, warning him to stop.

"What do you see?" Pony was starting to get worked up over the attention, and I smacked Soda harder on the arm.

"It’s like a little nativity scene, Pony." Soda smirked, and Pony started pouting.

"Oh for cryin’ out loud, stop it!" I rolled my eyes as Soda started giggling. "You’ll give him a complex."

I pushed Soda to the side while I gently wrapped my hand around Pony’s upper arm, and helped him get to his feet. Soda continued chuckling all the way to the kitchen. I shook my head, grinning down at Pony over our brother’s strange antics. Pony still looked worried.

"Hey, little buddy. How was your day?" My hand gently cupped the back of my brother’s head.

"It was okay." Pony answered simply while he shrugged.

"Yeah? You have any problems?"

"Not really. Mr. Kenyon made me go to the nurse’s office first thing. The rest was alright, I guess."

"Why’d you have to see the nurse?" I asked, worried something happened.

"I dunno," Pony frowned. "She asked lots of questions about my seizures and stuff."

"We’re you okay with that?" I asked knowing that that sort of situation made Ponyboy nervous as hell.

Pony shrugged again. "She was nice. I finished my homework, Darry. You wanna see?"

"How ‘bout after supper, kiddo? You get washed up." I pet his hair before turning around to head for the kitchen.

I watched Sodapop intently as I entered the kitchen, slowly making my way to my brother at the stove wondering what the hell he had in store for us for supper. I slowly peeked over his shoulder to see what he was doing, and felt relief when I realized he was just grilling sandwiches.

"Ponyboy don’t like grilled cheese anymore, Soda." I reminded him as I turned and headed for the fridge.

"I know," Soda chuckled. "It ain’t grilled cheese, don’t worry."

I looked at him baffled, took a breath while I shrugged, and grabbed the milk out of the fridge. I didn’t even ask; I’d find out soon enough.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was in the bathroom?"

"Whadaya mean?"

"That bullshit with the flashlight. You’re gonna scare Pony, Soda. Not to mention give me a stroke."

"His eyes were doin’ weird things." Soda mumbled, a concerned look suddenly on his face. "I just wanted to make sure."

"What? Were they changing colors?" I rolled my eyes.

"No, they were twitchin’ or somethin’. I dunno. I thought he was gonna have a seizure, but he didn’t. Was just getting’ a closer look. Sorry if I worried you."

"You’ve been doin’ that a lot lately." I confessed as I looked at him.

Sodapop closed his eyes and nodded, knowing that I was still thinking about our conversation the night previous. I know he insisted that everything was fine, but there were things we still needed to talk about.

He didn’t say anything back to me, just turned around and started piling the sandwiches on a big plate to place on the table so the three of us could just help ourselves.

"What are you doing here anyways? I thought you’d be out with your new best friend?" I stated dryly as Pony slowly made his way into the kitchen and headed for his spot at the table to my left. I automatically reached out to help him sit.

"Don’t be like that, Darry. Greg’s amazing." Sodapop frowned.

"Is Greg your new best friend?" Ponyboy looked at his brother.

"No, he’s not my new best friend. Sheesh. You guys..." Soda shook his head and sat down.

"I’m sorry, Soda." Pony’s voice was barely audible; no doubt he was worried that Sodapop was mad at him.

"Pony, I ain’t mad at ya." Soda reached across the table to squeeze his brother’s hand. I didn’t miss the stink eye he shot at me however, so I turned to the plate of sandwiches he’d made for supper.

"Soda, what the hell is this?" I picked up one of the grilled sandwiches he’d made and noticed something oozing from the inside.

Sodapop started laughing at my reaction, and a second later, Ponyboy was snorting as well.

"What the _hell_?" I looked at the sandwich in disgust.

"It’s grilled mushroom soup!" Pony shot out enthusiastically while Soda reached over and put a sandwich on Pony’s plate. Ponyboy picked it up and took a bite.

"Why?" I looked at Sodapop confused. "And more importantly, _why_?"

"Awe, c’mon Darry. Quit bein’ such a stick in the mud. You ain’t even tried it." Soda teased as him and Ponyboy started in.

I watched warily as my brothers chowed down on their sandwiches, looking for any signs that they were about to puke up Soda’s latest concoction. Oddly enough, they were eating like a couple of pigs; even Ponyboy, who seemed to eat like a bird anymore, looked as though he were thoroughly enjoying this grilled mushroom soup sandwich. I took a bite.

My eyebrows shot up when I realized that it was good. Very good. I looked over at Sodapop who was watching me intently, and nodded my approval which earned me a smile. Sodapop loved to experiment in the kitchen, and half of the time I wasn’t convinced he even tasted what he was making. I didn’t mind being his guinea pig for the most part, but I’d had a long day and not a lot of sleep, so I was thankful this particular creation was a good one.

* * *

It was two in the morning when my full bladder decided to ruin an otherwise great sleep. I felt around, noticing that the bed beside me was empty, and a small part of me felt lonely when I realized my brothers had decided to sleep in their own room.

I made my way down the hallway to the bathroom to take care of business. When I checked in on the boys on my way back, I found Ponyboy all alone. I headed for the living room and sure enough, Sodapop was sitting on the front steps in his t-shirt and underwear, smoking a cigarette.

"Soda?"

I spoke his name softly as I opened the screen door. He looked back, and then suddenly wasn’t able to keep eye contact with me. He nodded after a moment, taking a long drag off of his cigarette. I closed the door softly behind me, and sat slowly on the step beside him watching him carefully.

Soda’s eyes were red and although they were dry, I could tell he’d been crying by the marks on his face. My heart started to pound, knowing that for all of Soda’s assurances, he was not okay. There was something eating him up and for whatever reason, he was trying to keep it to himself. I wanted so bad for him to open up to me, but deep down I knew it would have to be up to him. If I tried to force him, it would only push him away.

"I’m here for you, Pepsi. I just need you to know that." I said gently as I cautiously put my arm around his shoulder.

Soda didn’t reply, he only stared out in the yard while he smoked his cigarette. I couldn’t help but think about finding him out on the porch months ago when Ponyboy had been taken away and placed in that hell of a foster home. He knew then that something was going on with Ponyboy. He’d tried to tell me, but there was nothing we could do. We had no power; no say. It was like a punch to the stomach, and watching Sodapop suffer in silence was making me feel the same way.

"When is it gonna stop?" Sodapop sniffed before turning his head to look at me.

"When’s what gonna stop?"

"The hurt. The guilt. The feelin’ like I let him down." Soda broke down, covering his face with his hands.

"Sodapop, what happened that night?" I gently urged while my arm wrapped around him tighter. It only served to make him cry harder; turning towards me to bury his face in my neck.

He knew what I was talking about. He didn’t try to deny it. I felt the lump in my throat while my eyes started to sting, but I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I had no idea what my brother was about to tell me, but I knew I had to swallow down the sick feeling that was emerging, and just be there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Shhh…I’m here, little buddy. It’s alright, I’m here. I’ve got you."

"I’m sorry, Darry. I’m so sorry." Sodapop just shook his head at me and pulled away.

"Soda, what happened?" I tried to keep my voice as soft as possible; wanting so badly for my brother to just open up to me.

I reached over to run my fingers through Soda’s hair, but he jerked his head away quickly. I looked on at him worriedly, my imagination now running wild. What would I do if my brother was about to tell me what I was fearing? It was too late for Martin Campbell; he was dead at the hands of myself and Tim Shepard. My greatest fear at that moment was that Soda was going to tell me he’d raped him too, and I just didn’t know if I would be able to handle that knowing that there was nothing more to be done to Campbell in retaliation.

I moved slowly, kneeling on the step below where Sodapop was sitting. He was doing everything he could to avoid my gaze, and it was killing me. I finally reached out, holding his face so he couldn’t look away anymore. If we were ever going to move on; stop the hurt and stop the guilt, we were going to have to face things head-on. No matter how scared it made us. No matter how painful it was going to be.

"Tell me about that night, Sodapop. What happened?" I let my thumb brush a tear from his cheek, took a deep breath, and readied myself for what he was about to say.

"You’ll hate me." Soda tried to shake his head, but my hands held it still.

I could hear Pony’s cries in my head from not so long ago. Convinced that Sodapop hated him, was disgusted by him, and didn’t want to be his brother because of everything that was done to him, and everything he was forced to do.

"How could you think I’d ever stop loving you? You’re my brother, Sodapop."

"Oh God, Darry!" Soda closed his eyes and the tears made their way down freely.

"What happened, Soda? I need you to be honest with me."

Soda slowly opened his eyes and took in a quivering breath. He let me run my hand through his hair while he tried to calm his breaths enough to speak. It took a few attempts, but after some time had passed, he nodded his head. I clenched my teeth, ready to take whatever he was going to give me.

"He wasn’t feelin’ good. I could tell. I went back to bed after you left for work that mornin’ and just watched him, y’know?"

"Yeah, he’d had a really rough night." I nodded, confirming Soda’s side of the story.

"He looked so worn out, but I got him outta bed anyways so he could lay on the couch where I could keep an eye on him. I made breakfast; tried to get him to eat, but he wasn’t right Darry. Somethin’ was off."

"What was off?" I asked curiously remembering how the entire day I’d felt like something wasn’t right; that something was going to happen.

"I can’t explain it; it just wasn’t him. He was so out of it. Steve called just after lunch to see how things were; if we needed anything. Said he’d swing by after his shift. Pony got upset all the sudden. He thought I was on the phone with you; kept askin’ for ya even when I tried to tell him it was Steve. He just kept sayin’ your name, calling out for you, so I called your work. I didn’t know what else to do." Sodapop started tearing up again.

’ _You’ve had a few phone calls.’_ I went back into my own mind about what happened that day. Mr. Garver had apparently tried multiple times to call me to his trailer for phone calls.

"I was waitin’ for you to answer, but Pony started breathin’ strange. I looked at him and he was all sweaty. He was panting like a dog and it was like he was possessed or somethin’, Darry. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I felt so stupid!" Soda cried, and I placed a firm, but gentle hand on the back of his neck.

"Shhh…Soda, you were there for him. You did the right thing by keeping him close to you so you could watch him. You can’t beat yourself up about that. None of us have control over those seizures; they just come on whether we’re ready or not." I tried to comfort Soda, but he wasn’t having any of it, and pushed me away.

"Don’t you get it? I hung up the phone! If I woulda stayed on the line you woulda come home! None of this woulda happened! You woulda been there when he broke in and you and me woulda wasted that sick fuck!"

"What happened, Soda?" My eyes were burning as I moved my hand back to cradle his head.

"It was bad. Pony wet himself, so I got a bath goin’ for him. I got him in the bathroom, got him undressed and in the tub. The phone started ringing and I knew it was you calling back, but when I ran out to get it he was there. Just starin’ at me with this look on his face." Soda shivered before looking me dead in the eye.

"Soda," I whispered as my other hand grabbed for his, bracing myself for what I thought was going to be next.

"Where did he come from?" Soda looked at me; clearly haunted by that night but I knew the question was rhetorical. I shook my head.

"I couldn’t move. All I could think about was that Pony wasn’t safe. He was in the tub with no clothes on and this creep was gonna find him and make him do all those horrible things again. So I just stood there while he came at me. I dunno, Darry. I dunno what I was thinkin’." Sodapop looked out to the driveway, and took in an unsteady breath.

"Did he touch you?" My voice was thick as it cracked. "Did he…?"

The dam broke, and Sodapop was drowning in a sea of grief. My hands found his face again; trying to offer up some kind of comfort in what I thought was his own shame, but his head shook as he grabbed my hands and held them tightly while his eyes bore through my own.

"Pony...Ponyboy…" was all he could choke out before he seemed to lose his breath.

"What about Pony? Soda, what about Pony?" My hands started shaking.

Sodapop gasped, and his voice shook. "He stopped him. He...he told him he could do what he wanted to him if he’d leave me alone."

"What?"

And the world seemed to stop as memories throughout my life swirled around inside my head. Memories of mom and dad bringing a tiny baby home from the hospital, and my little brother Sodapop being so enamoured with him, he couldn’t stop playing with his small, baby fingers. Ponyboy laying on a blanket in the middle of the living room with his brother; his coos and giggles telling us and the rest of the world that his big brother Sodapop was the best. Memories of the three of us in the tub every Sunday night until I got older; Sodapop splashing around trying to get a rise out of Pony, and Pony laughing uncontrollably. And Sodapop moving into Pony’s room after mom and dad died. Sleeping in the same bed; offering the comfort that nobody else had the capacity for.

"SAY SOMETHING!" Sodapop begged, but I couldn’t seem to do anything at the time.

"I…I don’t know…what are you saying?"

"He made it outta the tub and found us." Soda shrugged at me. "Nothin’ but a towel. Told Campbell to take him insteada me."

_Judge a man by his actions._

My dad’s voice haunted me at that moment. What was Ponyboy thinking that night? But then I looked at Sodapop, and the answer was as plain as day. He’d do everything, move heaven and earth to keep Sodapop safe from harm.

_Judge a man by his actions._

And I thought back to the year previous. Ponyboy along with Johnny Cade running into a burning building to save a bunch of children; strangers. And Dallas Winston followed.

_Judge a man by his actions._

But my brother wasn’t yet a man, he was still a kid, and I felt myself break into pieces with the thought that would never lay itself to rest. I hit him. I started this. It should’ve been me.

"Darry?" Soda looked at me, wiping at his nose while it ran.

I shook my head unbelievingly, but I knew it was all true. It made so much sense. Ponyboy would die for his brother, like Soda would die for him, and I would for the both of them. There was no measure for the amount of bravery my baby brother had, even when broken and terrified. But there were worse things in life than dying, and Ponyboy was willing to face all of it so that his favourite brother was spared.

"I tried…I dunno what happened. I tried to get in front of Pony but that bastard got me with the phone." Soda gingerly rubbed the scar; still red and angry looking on the right side of his forehead. "He was draggin’ Pony around the house by his bad arm. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, Darry. I tried to get to him but…"

Soda started trembling just then, reliving that night. My mouth was agape; I had no words. I was trying to process what he was telling me, and trying to figure out why I hadn’t seen it sooner. The way the two of them had clung to each other that night on the floor. The way Sodapop ripped Pony out of my arms and away from me, only for the two of them to fall helplessly onto the floor. The two of them with their faces pressed against one another’s, feeling with their hands that the other was still alive because they didn’t trust their eyes.

"I could hear them." Soda sobbed. "I could hear Pony. He was crying, Darry and I couldn’t get to him. And that sick bastard was moaning; he was havin’ the time of his life. Pony started screamin’ and then it was quiet..."

"He told him you were dead." I interrupted, not wanting anymore details of what my youngest brother had to endure.

"What?" Soda looked at me in shock.

"He told Ponyboy that he killed you. You were dead. When me and Two-Bit found him, he was barely alive. But he came back. He kept crying for you. He thought you were dead."

Soda bowed his head and wept. I felt a coldness spread into my bones, as my jaw clenched and I closed my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to know what Shepard and Co. had done with Martin Campbell’s remains. What I wouldn’t give to dig his body up, just so I could piss all over it. How the fuck was I ever going to get my brothers over this?

I eased up on the step beside Soda, and grabbed his t-shirt to pull him into me. My arms wound around him possessively. He was my little brother. He was mine. Nobody, _**nobody**_ was supposed to touch him. The rage began to build itself like a wave; the crest was about to peak and I was ready to drown in it. Soda sensed it, and his hands spread out on my back, pulling me back in and easing the storm.

We were all we had left.

We were it.

There was so much to tell my brother; so much to say. There was nothing he could’ve done. He’d done everything possible to protect Ponyboy that night. There was nothing he could’ve done to change the tide that crashed down on all of us that night.

I broke the embrace, and once more held Soda’s face in my hands. He gave me an odd look before I moved in and kissed him. He bit his bottom lip while I stood up and held my hand out for his. We were all we had left, but the most important piece of our puzzle was right at that moment, all alone and I could feel an ache for him in my body.

He looked so small, curled up in his and Soda’s bed. His left arm still contracted at the elbow, that hand conveniently tucked under his chin while he had his face pressed into Sodapop’s pillow. There was so much more to my baby brother than I could even begin to understand. Left for dead in a pile of waste, he fought against all the odds to make it back to us even though it was in pieces. And finally, in spite of that, he wagered himself to the devil, so that his brother Sodapop would go untouched.

I watched quietly as Sodapop made his way back into bed, and noticed how Ponyboy sensed it by giving up the pillow to curl into his brother instead. I stood dumbly, silently, awed by the strength and bravery of one fifteen year old kid. There were soldiers out there, draped in medals for fighting battles less horrifying than the war my brother had no choice in fighting, and was still fighting.

I tucked myself in behind Ponyboy, wrapping his small frame in my arms. I could feel the pressure in my head increase when the first tear fell, and I held him tighter while my eyes squeezed shut, and willed the rest of the tears to go away. There was no more time for crying; there was healing that needed to be done and we were going to have to do it together.

We were all we had left.

We were it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

Time. It seemed like something unattainable and yet it was the one thing I needed more of. More time to work two jobs so I could pay the bills that always seemed to pile up. More time at home so I could be with my brothers; feel like a part of their lives. Time so I could act like a twenty-one year old instead of an old man watching his life flash by him.

It seemed odd to me now. Time goes by so slow as a kid. I spent my entire childhood wanting time to zip by so I could be a man and live as I wanted. Now that I was a man, it was slipping through my fingers. I tried to pin-point the exact moment I became older than my years, but it was all moving forward so quickly I couldn’t even keep track of what day of the week it was. Life was passing. Too much had happened. I was trying to tread water in a hurricane while at the same time holding on to a brother in each arm while waiting to drown.

"You gotta learn to relax, Darry." Soda’s gentle voice broke into my thoughts; as if reading my mind.

"Thanks, Tips," I replied dryly while rolling my eyes. "AAHHHH!" I suddenly holler in pain through laughter.

Soda has found a knot in my back between my shoulder blades while I’m laid out on my bed getting a back rub. He’s got his fist right into it; no doubt punishing me for my snarky remark. But he’s Sodapop; he’s not offended when I’m cranky like this, in fact I think he’s downright amused by it as long as I don’t get moody with our little brother.

"Tips? Where’s my tip?" Soda laughs as I’m squirming beneath the pointed pressure he’s placed at the source of my pain, but some weird sense of pleasure pushes through the tight knot as I suddenly feel the muscle relax from Soda’s gifted hands.

"Don’t eat yellow snow." I snickered back, and as I look over my shoulder, it’s Soda rolling his eyes at me as he swings a long leg over, getting off of my ass where he was just sitting.

"Hey, where ya goin’? Get back here!" I plead while I grab his arm and pull him back towards me, and he shakes his head while laughing.

"Why don’t you get a girlfriend? She can be your massage slave." Soda mocked irritation as he crawled back on top of me, parking his ass back onto mine before continuing his magic on my back.

"Mmmm…" I groaned in appreciation. "Shush. Feels better when you’re quiet."

Sodapop laughs at this, and then his hands return to the pinched and pulled and tense muscles of my back. It’s times like these when I don’t know how I’d manage everything without him. Life’s thrown it’s share of lemons at this family, and I hate that it’s burdened Soda, but there’s a security and comfort knowing he’s supporting me no matter how badly I’ve fucked everything up.

"Rub harder, Soda. You’re gonna put me to sleep." I mumble like I do every single time we do this. I know putting me to sleep is exactly what’s on his agenda.

"When ya gonna stop carrying two bundles of roofin’ up that damned ladder?" I can hear the worry in his voice, and I frown knowing I’m the cause of it.

"When I ain’t roofin’ houses no more." I say, the reality of it all making me tired.

"Darry," Sodapop sighs, and I don’t want him bothered by me anymore.

I bend my arm and catch a hand of his as it’s rubbing my neck and shoulders. I turn my head back to look at him, and he looks back at me questioningly. I give his hand a squeeze, and he eases himself off of me so I can push myself up and sit beside him.

"I think that’s good." I say quietly as I stretch my arms out while my head tilts from side-to-side, stretching and cracking the vertebrae. "Thanks, little buddy."

"You okay, Darry?" Soda’s looking at me like he needs to be concerned, and I feel startled by it wondering if he’s noticing something I’m not.

"Stop worrying. That’s my job." I give him a look that means I’m serious, but my brother manages to look even more worried.

"You don’t gotta do this on your own, y’know? I’m here for ya, Darry. Always will be."

I grin at my younger brother. It’s so strange to see Sodapop with both feet planted on the ground when just a year ago he couldn’t even remember to put his shoes on. He’ll be turning eighteen soon, and for the hundredth time I thank God he’s around helping me through everything that’s happened. For the millionth time, I feel like shit for everything he’s given up because of it.

"Ponyboy say anything to you about how school’s going?" I change the subject; a distraction from all of the guilt I’m feeling.

"Mmmm…" Soda gives me a slight frown. "Not sure he’s likin’ it, Darry. Between the work and all the assholes pokin’ fun at him…"

"Dammit, I knew it!" I shoved a hand in my hair while I closed my eyes.

"Shhh…" Soda puts a hand on my shoulder and starts rubbing. "He’ll hear ya."

"He’s been through enough, Soda. Why can’t they just leave him alone?"

"Things are a lot different now, Darry. Last year he had Johnny. Hell, Two-Bit ain’t around no more either. Pony’s on his own this year."

"What do I do?" I shrugged looking at Sodapop desperately, wondering if he had an idea; any suggestion at all that could help make things better for our brother.

"Nothin’ you _can_ do, Darry. Can’t beat the shit outta the whole world."

"Why not?" I looked at Soda seriously, and he smiled.

"Stevie’s lookin’ out for him. Pony’s just gotta get used to it and let him."

"Well, your boy _Stevie_ ain’t been on the right side of your brother since the creation of man. Don’t hold your breath, kid brother." I commented dryly while frowning.

"He cares about him, Darry. That night scared the shit outta him. He cares."

"I get it." I said quickly, not wanting to re-live that night.

It made sense. Although Ponyboy took the brunt of things, we were all affected including Steve. Steve Randal had been beaten by the hands of his own father for years, but I know he’d never seen anything remotely as cruel as what my brother had been through. We were all family. I knew it’d taken its toll on every single one of us.

"You see much of Two-Bit?" I asked, thinking of our other brother who’d also been forever changed; so much so that he decided to grow up and finally get a job.

"Not…"

Sodapop started to answer me when we both heard the screen door slam. The both of us grinned at each other, nodding as if someone had been listening to us and decided to answer an unknown plea. The crazy laughter could be heard from somewhere in the living room, as well as laughter from our little brother when Soda and I got up from my bed and headed for a light in the darkness.

Sure enough, Two-Bit Mathews had Ponyboy pinned to the living room floor, and was squishing the hell out of him. I opened my mouth to tell Two-Bit to lay off, but saw the joy in my brother’s eyes at this piece of normalcy, and figured I’d bite my tongue unless it looked as though my brother couldn’t handle it. Soda eyed me, reading my mind with a huge grin spread across his face.

"Hey, Two-Bit! Where the hell ya been? We were just gonna call search and rescue!" Soda plopped down on the couch while resting his feet up on the coffee table.

"Holler uncle, Pony!" Two-Bit yelled, ignoring Soda’s question while he rolled with Ponyboy on the floor until he had him in a headlock from behind. "I’m gonna mess up your hair!" He threatened, but all it did was make Pony laugh out harder.

Pony wasn’t going to win this match, even with Two-Bit taking it easy on him. But it wasn’t about beating him, I could see that as Two-Bit gave Ponyboy a quick squeeze from behind while his face rested against Pony’s. As quick as the action took place, it was over and Two-Bit let go of my brother while bringing a leg up to shove him away with his foot. Ponyboy hadn’t looked that happy in I couldn’t remember, and I felt my own mouth curl up into a smile.

"Shit, kid. You better start eatin’. A strong wind could knock you over." He teased.

"Only if it comes out your ass." Pony quipped, and had both Soda and Two-Bit in hysterics.

"Pony," I warned while having difficulty keeping a straight face.

"Sorry, Darry." Ponyboy was quick to apologize, but I gave him a wink to let him know I wasn’t mad.

"Well, shit!" Two-Bit grinned like a Cheshire Cat as he looked at us. "How’re the Curtis boys?"

"Where ya been, Two-Bit?" Pony asked as he sat next to our friend on the floor.

"Boy howdy, kid. They up and made me get a job. How ya like that? After all I’ve done for society." Two-Bit shook his head while we all snickered at him.

"Bein’ a reject, you mean?" Soda piped up.

"Now, now. Don’t be gettin’ all up in my face, middle Curtis. I’m an adult now." Two-Bit tried to look superior, but it came off as ridiculous and Soda and Ponyboy cracked up.

"Okay, _Mr. Adult_. Where you keepin’ yourself these days?" I rolled my eyes at him, smiling with the realization of just how much I missed him.

"Got on evenings at the power plant. It’s shift work, but the pay is okay. More than what Buck was payin’ tending bar."

"When did you ever work for Buck?" Soda asked, not believing Two-Bit would ever hold a job.

Two-Bit and I shared a look before another smile crept on my face. He’d never said anything before, but I’d always known he pulled out all of the stops for us when Ponyboy was in the hospital. While I was missing work so I could stay at my brother’s bedside, the biggest clown this side of Tulsa was busting his ass tending bar at Buck Merril’s pussy palace to pay my bills.

"Shit, I musta dreamt it." Two-Bit grinned. "See, Ponyboy? I get nightmares too."

"I missed you." Pony rasped quietly, and Two-Bit shot me another look.

"Told ya I was his best bud."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.
> 
> Thanks to all that are still following, and many thanks for the kudos left.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I willed my hand to stay still as I moved the small brush in a downward stroke. I grinned at my own handy work; amazed I had the capacity to keep the deep red colour within the boundaries with so much to distract me. Her other foot kept moving, brushing up against the inside of my bare thigh and I shot her a warning look and shook my head disapprovingly.

"You're gonna make me mess up." I grinned as I focused my attentions on her toenails as I carefully painted them in the colour of nail polish that she handed me.

"It's okay. You can always get a do-over." Beth bit her bottom lip while her eyes sparkled at me.

"A do-over? Shit, you girls are pretty high maintenance with your lipstick and nail polish and long hair." I grinned while I teased her.

"Well, we don't all roll out of bed being as naturally good looking as you are." Beth gave a challenging look, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"I think you got the wrong Curtis." I said, picturing how girls always seemed to swoon over Sodapop wherever he went. That wasn't me at all; not that I noticed anyways.

Beth just grinned while she shook her head at me. I smiled softly while I finished the last bit of colour on her small toe, and tried hard to ignore that other foot as it made its way to its target between my legs. I gave her a pointed look as it began to move against me, and I screwed the cap back on to her bottle of red nail polish before tossing it over my shoulder.

"You'll have to tell me more about these do-overs." I smiled as I shuffled my way over, crawling up between her smooth porcelain thighs, finding my way back to my own target.

Beth laughed out loud; that kind of laugh that makes everyone smile because it's real, not phoney. She brushed the hair from my eyes, and I realized it was probably time for another haircut, but I loved the feeling of this simple gesture from her. When she looked at me, I knew she was feeling it too; I knew I wasn’t alone in this even though I haven't even had the decency to ask her out on a date despite the fact she's sharing her bed with me. Suddenly, the last thought sucks the joy from me, and I felt guilty as I rolled to the spot beside her.

"You alright?" Beth looked at me confused as she rolled towards me, propping her head up on one hand while the other rested on my chest.

"Yeah," I said quietly as I felt my brows come together. I covered my eyes with my hand before I rubbed them.

"What is it?"

"You deserve more than this." The words come out in a sigh as my hand leaves my face and grabs for the hand of hers that's resting on me.

"We've been through this, Darry. I know what your life is like right now. I'm a big girl; I'm not expecting anything. I just like being with you."

"I don't want you to think I'm here just for sex. I mean...it's great don't get me wrong…" I could feel the heat in my face and I wanted to kick myself. I was making a mess of things.

Beth smiled, and I could've forgotten my name. I barely knew anything about her, and yet I felt so at ease, like being in the presence of someone you've known for years. I wondered if I was out of my league with her; I was pretty sure we had very different backgrounds, but I never once felt that way. I was actually feeling like we fit together perfectly.

"I know what kind of man you are, Darry. I've never once thought you were that type." She looked at me seriously.

"How? We don't know a whole lot about each other."

"You forget, I watched for months how you were with people. I watched the way you took care of your brothers while putting yourself last. I watched you with your friends. I watched how you treated us while we worked with your little brother. I watched you with both of your brothers. I saw how much love you have for them. You're a good man, Darry. I know you're not using me for sex. And it is great...for the record."

I grinned and rolled on my side to face her. My hand moved up to hold a handful of her coppery hair, then brought it to my face so I could smell it. An idea rolled around in my head, but I was worried she wouldn't be interested. I was also worried the reality of it would blow up in my face.

"Maybe we should go out? Y'know…like a date…if you want." I stammered like I was thirteen again, asking Rebecca Greene to the school dance. I rolled my eyes at myself.

"What were you thinking?" Beth giggled lightly as she let her own hand run itself back into my hair.

"Well," I cringed as I spoke self consciously. "My brother thought I should maybe have you over for dinner." I couldn't believe I was actually taking advice from my baby brother about a girl.

"Which one?" Beth gave me a strange look, and I was immediately sorry I'd opened my mouth.

"Ponyboy." I cringed, already sensing this wasn't going the way I had planned out originally. I didn't even know her hometown and I'm inviting her home to meet the family.

"Awe," She was just short of cooing, and I looked at her surprised. "That's so sweet. I think about him all of the time, you know?”

"He's a little young for you, no offence." I frowned.

"Not like that, ya big jerk!" Beth laughed as the hand playing in my hair forcefully shoved my head away and I was laying on my back again. I laughed.

"I had a little brother. He reminds me of him." Beth got quiet, and her smile slowly fading.

"Where is he now?" I asked curiously, noting she used the word _had_.

"Died. He had leukaemia. Was about Ponyboy's age, I guess. It was a long time ago." Her eyes drifted off to nowhere, no doubt thinking about her brother.

"I’m so sorry, Beth.” I couldn’t even imagine a world without either of my brothers. A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“Is that why you became a nurse?" I asked, knowing a small part of the pain she must’ve felt. Even though Ponyboy had survived, it still felt as though pieces of him were forever gone.

"I guess so, although I knew I always wanted to help people."

I eased back up, propping my head on my hand. I couldn't fathom how she devoted her life to witnessing all of the pain and suffering people, _children_ nonetheless went through. I thought about my brother, and the long haul of suffering he was still going through, and shook my head in awe of her.

"How do you do it? Why would you want to? All that suffering." I reached out and softly ran my finger across her cheek. She looked at me soberly.

"If I don't do it, who will? And it's not always heartbreaking. Sometimes we get a miracle; like your brother. He shouldn't have made it past that first night, Darry. I was there. I saw everything that was done—the damage done to him, and that was just the physical damage. Nobody in that hospital expected him to live, but he did. Pony’s a miracle, Darry. That's why I do what I do."

I wasn't sure I had the right to it, but I felt such pride for my baby brother because I knew what Beth said was true. Not one soul, myself included, expected Pony to last the first night. There was something deep down inside of him that kept him going. That same something was what made him stand up to Martin Campbell and his abuse, and take another round in order to protect Soda. My heart ached with it.

"He's a miracle." Beth's voice was gentle as she smiled.

"Well, that miracle would love to meet you...officially. Whadaya say?" I smiled back at her, trying hard not to get emotional.

"I'd say, I can't wait."

Beth leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. It wasn't heated, or rushed, just a tender kiss letting me know she cared. My hand combed itself through her lustrous locks of copper when I realized it was most likely getting late. I wondered in the back of my head if I was an open book. She seemed to read my mind.

"Don't go. Please?" She shook her head, as if she was mad at herself. "I'm sorry. You probably have to. Stay anyway?" Her eyes pleaded with me.

"Can I use your phone?" I grinned when I saw her face light up, and she nodded.

"Kitchen." She instructed, her eyes hot as I rolled out of her bed naked and slowly made my way from her bedroom into the kitchen.

It was nine-thirty as I waited impatiently for someone at home to pick up. My stomach started to pull as I waited and waited, and nothing. My breathing felt a little faster as I hung up the phone. Of course, I played every horrible scenario in my head, from Ponyboy having to be taken to the hospital, to a sadistic rapist/killer breaking into the house and picking off what was left of my family. I picked the receiver back up and dialled again, practically hyperventilating. I was about to bolt out of there, naked and all, until after the seventh ring I could suddenly hear music blaring and a breathless "hello".

"What the hell is goin' on over there? Why didn't you pick up?" I yelled, relief not yet washing over me.

"Yo, Soda!" I heard Steve yell over the music and laughing. "It's Superman." There was faint mumbling and suddenly the music was turned down a lot lower.

"Darry? Christ almighty! You ain't still at work are ya?" Soda's worried voice on the other end entered me, and I felt myself relax.

"No. What the hell is goin' on over there? Why didn't you pick up the phone?"

"Sorry 'bout that, Darry. Didn't hear ya over the music."

"Well, turn it down. I don't need the neighbours complainin' at me tomorrow about all the noise."

"Yeah, Okay." I could hear Soda's eyes roll, and I frowned at myself for being what he always called a _stick-in-the-mud_.

"Where ya at? You on your way home?" Soda asked.

"Uhhh…" I suddenly felt self conscious, knowing that Sodapop wasn't ever going to let me live this down. "Ummm…I sorta ran into someone." Lie.

"Oh yeah?" I could hear the smirk in Soda's voice, and I wanted to strangle him with the telephone cord. "Anyone I know?"

”Just an old friend.” Another lie. Sort of.

”Yeah, sure. A _friend_.” Soda snickered.

"Shut yer pie hole!" I drawled and rolled my eyes as I had to listen to Soda laugh at my expense. "You done, you little shit?"

"I'll never be done, Darry. You know that." Soda chuckled. "Why you wasting your time talkin' to me? Go get her, Darry!"

"I wanted to check in. Make sure you're alright."

"Yeah, we gotta game of Twister goin' on. Poor Pony." Soda giggled before yelling at whoever was there.

"He okay? I mean…will you be okay if I don't come home tonight?" I winced as the question escaped my mouth.

Soda was silent for a moment, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. I noticed Beth out of the corner of my eye, clad only in my shirt as she slowly approached me. I lifted my arm, and she slid in underneath it, nuzzling and kissing my neck. I felt myself start to respond.

"Soda?"

"Darry, we're good here. Don't worry your head over nothin'. Get back to your girl."

"I can give you the phone number…" I started, but was cut off by my little brother.

"Darry, would you please just have a good time? Okay? We're all good here. Don’t worry ‘bout a thing. I got it. I love you." Soda pushed, and I felt a smile creep onto my face.

"Thanks, Soda. I love you too."

I hung up the phone and looked down at the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I nodded at her and was rewarded with a huge smile. She bit her lip as she pulled me towards her; her walking backwards towards her bedroom. I closed the distance, pulling up on the t-shirt of mine that she was wearing until it was off of her and laying on the floor in the hallway. She wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up and slowly carried her to her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I felt myself rouse slowly as the smell of coffee gently infiltrated my senses. I rolled over lazily thinking my brothers were already up and busy starting on breakfast without me. I thought about Ponyboy and the trouble he'd gone through trying to crack the eggs for our breakfast, and figured I should get out of bed and maybe show him how to crack them with one hand. My eyes opened slowly, and I startled slightly when it registered that I was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room until I noticed Beth sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling while watching me and holding a cup of black gold for me.

"Ahhh, a girl after my own heart," I moaned as I sat up and accepted the potion she was offering.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm only after your money." Beth grinned as she watched me take a gulp of the coffee she'd brought me.

"Well, if you find any, let me know. I have some bills I need to pay." I gave her a wry grin and she just smiled.

"I need to leave for work, but you can make yourself at home. Lock up when you're ready to leave."

I suddenly realized she was in her nursing uniform, and felt a wave of guilt. I'd completely forgotten about her own responsibilities; a life she had outside of the bedroom we'd spent the entire night in. If I'd known she had to be at work, I would've been less needy with her. I would've made sure she had a decent rest before having to deal with her own gruelling work schedule.

"Why didn't you tell me you had to work?"

"Because you would've left." Beth raised an eyebrow and answered plainly. After such a short amount of time, she already had me figured out.

"Well I would've at least let you get some sleep." I cringed, feeling horrible with the thought that she was going to be dead on her feet because of me.

"You could've, but what we were doing last night was a lot more fun." Beth winked before leaning in, and planting her lips on mine.

I felt her smile as her lips were pressed against mine, and I couldn't help but smile too. She broke away, gently wiping her lipstick from my bottom lip and then looked over to the clock on her bedside table and sighed before getting up. I watched as she grabbed for a bag hanging on the back of her bedroom door before making her way back towards me.

"The six-thirty's going to be here soon." She frowned, referring to the bus.

"You don't drive?" I asked surprised.

Beth shrugged shyly. "Didn't see the need when I moved here. I'm just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the hospital. Needed to save money." She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

I was impressed by her savvy thinking when it came to money. I knew she'd had some judging from the very neat and stylish apartment she lived in, but it wasn't over exaggerated like the uppity-ups from the west side of town lived. From what I could tell, she was very conservative and didn't like to show off.

"Gimme two shakes. I'll drive you." I spun my legs over the bed while I practically chugged the hot coffee until the cup was empty.

"Darry, you don't have to. It's barely ten minutes..." Beth started, but I silenced her when I leaned over and kissed her.

"I want to."

The rain was a light drizzle as I stopped the truck in front of the hospital and shifted it in park. There was a slight chill to the air, and I half wished I didn't have to head in to work myself. It was the perfect day to just laze around doing nothing, but my life was never about lazing around.

"Penny for your thoughts." Beth's voice was soft as she shuffled next to me in the truck, resting her head on my shoulder while she gently held my hand.

"Would be a tremendous overpayment." I frowned until I heard her laugh, and felt my mouth curl up into a grin.

"Darry!? Good Lord!" Beth sat up, looking hard at me before she shook her head.

I shrugged at her apologetically, and was rewarded with another one of her kisses as both of her hands held my face. Her eyes were warm when our mouths parted, and my heart pounded when she finally smiled.

"I will see _you_ later, mister." She winked at me as she reached for the latch to the door.

"Hold on." I said, almost forgetting my manners as I hopped out of the truck and made my way to the passenger side to open the door for her.

I squeezed her hand as she grabbed mine for support while she making her way out of dad's old Ford. The rain started falling harder, but I didn't notice as I kissed her goodbye, and she held me to her a little longer.

"Thank you for staying, Darrel." She smiled softly.

"Darry," I grinned. "I'll call you about dinner."

"Can't wait." She smiled as she backed away, finally turning to walk towards the hospital entrance.

"Don't get too excited. You ain't never had dinner with those two bozos before!" I hollered after her and heard her laugh before the door closed behind her. It made me smile.

The thunder started up, and the rain was coming down in sheets by the time I turned the truck onto our street. I looked on at the collection of cars, and felt my jaw clench in annoyance as I realized they were all clustered in front of the house.

"What the flyin' fuck, Sodapop?" I cursed under my breath as I squeezed the truck into the drive beside an unknown Chevy.

I stomped my way up the walk and up to the porch, and my mood didn't improve much when I entered the house, shaking the rain off while I stood inside the door and looked around. There were shoes scattered about everywhere, and the stench of liquor just about bowled me over. I kicked my boots off slowly, and almost landed on my face as I maneuvered my way around the footwear. I peered into the living room, and felt my jaw drop as I saw the bodies that'd made my home their hotel for the night.

I first recognized, and was shocked to find Greg passed out in my chair, and felt my mood calm slightly when I noticed the likes of Tim Shepard, his brother, and my Cherokee friend who I hadn't seen or heard from in many many weeks. There were a few others too; guys and gals passed out and sleeping over the game sheet for ‘Twister _'_ as I decided to back my way out of the crowded room to use the bathroom and look for my brothers.

I emptied my bladder and washed my hands at the sink. I stood there staring at my reflection, feeling myself tense up, swearing that I'd make Soda clean every last corner of the house after throwing a party the first sign I'd decided to spend the night away. I shook my head, rolling my eyes wondering if he'd had it planned all along; wanting nothing more than to get his stick-in-the-mud big brother out of the way so he could finally have fun. I frowned, grabbing for the hand towel from the rack to dry my hands when I heard a muffled groan. I walked over to the bath tub and whipped the shower curtain back.

"Well ain't that just great. Christ almighty!" I groaned as I found no other than Two-Bit Mathews, fast asleep in the bath tub.

He lay there by himself, no doubt passed out from a night of drinking as evidenced by the bottle of Budweiser he had cradled under an arm. I was about to turn the shower head on to give him a blast of cold water, when I suddenly felt impressed by Two-Bit's resourcefulness. He'd managed to find a place to lay low without having to fight for a spot on the living room floor with the other bodies. I shook my head before whipping the shower curtain closed again, and was ready to find my brother to give _him_ a blast.

I made my way out of the bathroom to head for the boy's room. I was fed up, feeling tired, and the sound of the rain was making me even more sleepy. The door swung open, and I couldn't help but let my eyes roll again when a naked Steve jolted up and off of a naked Evie.

"Wha?" Steve asked groggily, not even focussing on anything as he jabbed his fingers in his eyes, rubbing them clumsily. Evie didn't even move.

"'Mornin' sunshine. You're washin' those sheets before you leave today, or you can take 'em with you."

Steve didn't reply with words, he just fell backwards moaning before I heard him swear under his breath. I shook my head, frowning as I slammed the door behind me. I was still shaking my head as I marched my way to my own room. I opened the door, and sure enough there were the two bozos I'd warned Beth about.

The door opened, but my anger seemed to deflate immediately as I saw my brother's huddled together like they'd been doing since Pony got home from the hospital. There was something about the way they remained aware of each other; keeping watch over one another even in their sleep while lying hand-in-hand. It always seemed to stop me in my tracks and remind me time and again just how lucky we were.

I sighed, concentrating on keeping the frown on my face as I dragged my feet to the bed and lay down in the space left available to me by Ponyboy. By the time my head hit the pillow and I reached out to rub the back of his head, I couldn't help how my frown was bending into a grin. I closed my eyes.

"You have fun last night?" Soda's voice was low and quiet.

"Not as much fun as you apparently had." I answered back; my eyes still closed.

"Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that. It kinda got intense." I could hear the smile in Sodapop's voice.

"Intense?" My eyes flew open and I looked over at my brother incredulously. "Half of Tulsa's passed out on my floor, Sodapop! What the hell kinda game of _Twister_ were you playing?"

Soda laughed, "Darry, I don't think you really wanna know."

There was a glimmer of the reckless kid he once was, merged with the young man he'd become, and I wasn't sure which one I was talking to.

"Were you drinking?" I asked.

"I don't drink, you know that. Besides, I never would around Ponyboy." Soda was offended.

I was relieved, but also impressed with Soda's seriousness and commitment when it came to looking after our younger brother. I also felt bad for assuming the worst. I had no reason to; Soda had never been known for drinking.

"I'm sorry."

"S'ok. You had a good time though, right?" Sodapop grinned, and I nodded.

"Thanks, little buddy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Pony?"

"Shhhh…"

"Pony? What’s going on, little buddy?"

"I think he’s coming. I…I think he’s coming."

"Ponyboy, gimme your hand okay?"

"Shhhh…he’s gonna hear. Where’s Sodapop?"

"Pony, let go of the door. It’s okay, gimme your hand."

It was two in the morning and I’d found Ponyboy clutching the door knob to the front door while I was on my way to the bathroom. It startled me when I glanced down the hall on my way back, and saw someone crouched down in the entranceway. What startled me even more was the fact that my brother wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. He was still asleep.

"Ponyboy, it’s okay. Gimme your hand." I’d been trying unsuccessfully to get my brother to loosen his vice-like grip on the door knob. He may have had one hand out of commission, but there was nothing wrong with the alternate.

"Get Soda out. He’s coming." Pony continued his frantic whispering to himself.

"C’mon, Pony. Look at me." My voice was more forceful as I tried to get him to snap out of whatever dream he was in. I gently cradled his face in my hands. "You got Soda out; he’s safe. You saved him, Pony. Don’t you remember?"

Pony was quiet as he looked through me with dead eyes. Then a second later, he seemed to be aware of his surroundings; his eyes moving to survey the entranceway to our home. His body trembled as he began to realize he had no idea how he’d gotten to the front door, or why he was clutching the door knob. He reluctantly let go as I covered his hand with my own, and he looked at me.

"Darry?"

"Yeah, little buddy. It’s me."

"How’d I get here? What’s goin’ on?"

The crying started, and I maneuvered myself closer to him. He was as spooked as I’d ever remembered seeing him, and in all honesty I was too. This was something I’d only seen once. That night months ago when Pony had managed to fall out of bed; thinking me and Sodapop were trying to get after him.

"It’s okay Pony, just hold my hand." It was needless to ask this of him. He was clutching onto my hand like a lifeline.

"Why am I here?" Pony looked to me for the answer, and I wasn’t sure if I should lie, or tell the truth and scare him even more.

"I think you were having a nightmare, baby. It’s okay now."

"But I don’t remember gettin’ outta bed, Darry!" Ponyboy was getting himself worked up again.

"I think you were sleep walking, kiddo. It’s okay, Pony. I got you. It’s okay." I spoke soft and low, trying to keep him calm.

"I ain’t never done that before, have I Darry?"

I suddenly felt like his father, not his brother. Our parents were dead and I was the key to everything in his past. There were no more stories to be told of when he was little that could outreach my limited memory. I was the storyteller now. I was his historian.

"Well, you can get pretty wild when you’re not feeling well. I dunno, you gettin’ sick on me?" I let one hand cover his forehead while I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders. He didn’t feel hot.

"I think I’m okay. I don’t feel sick." Ponyboy was trying his best to settle as he slowly let go of my hand and wiped at his eyes.

"You ready to go back to bed?"

"No, don’t wake Sodapop."

"Okay, kiddo. You can come crash with me. It’s alright, c’mon." I slowly stood up from the floor and held my hand out for Ponyboy to stand and steady himself on his feet.

He trembled ever-so-slightly as I held his hand and walked him to my room to spend the rest of the night. It seemed routine now, and I wondered in the back of my head how I ever got suckered into sharing this limited and personal space with my brothers, but then the thought vanished as I watched Pony struggle to get himself under the covers without my help. I snapped out of my reverie and had the covers pulled back for him while he shuffled around to find his now usual spot.

The lamp was on and I pulled the covers up and over the both of us. My arm raised out of habit so that Ponyboy could scoot closer to me and rest his head on my shoulder. I looked down at him and saw that he was still upset about what he’d done.

"You okay, Pony?"

His face showed how distraught he was feeling before he shrugged weakly. "I don’t know, Darry."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged, still unsure.

"Y’know, we really haven’t talked about everything. Things you had to go through when they put you in that foster home, or even when you were in the hospital. If you had any questions, or wanted to talk about it. I mean…we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m here for you, Ponyboy. I hope that you know that."

It was out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. In the light and the aftermath of the hell Martin Campbell put us through, it didn’t occur to me until that moment that we never sat down to talk to one another. I never asked if my brother wanted to talk about what happened. I seemed to focus more on getting over it all and putting it behind us.

"I don’t wanna talk about it now." Pony mumbled into my shoulder.

"That’s okay too, Pony. Y’know it doesn’t even have to be me. It can be Sodapop, or even Two-Bit if you want."

I felt Pony tense up. "Does Two-Bit know?"

"Yeah, kiddo. He was there the night Campbell broke in and took you. Don’t you remember? He drove you and me home." I reached over to pet his hair, knowing he was not happy with this revelation.

"I forgot." He answered quietly, and was silent for a few minutes. "Does Steve know too?"

"Yeah, Pony. Steve knows."

"Is that why he’s always nice to me now? ‘Cause I’m dumb and got...beat up?" Pony rolled away from me abruptly, but I followed him and kept my arms around him.

"Ponyboy, stop it. You are not dumb! Steve doesn’t pity you, Pony. He cares. He sees how strong you are and he’s proud of you. Just like me and Soda are proud of you."

Pony craned his neck as much as it would move so he could look at me. "You’re really proud of me?"

He looked at me with the eyes of a child; another reminder of just how much had changed. I was always proud of him, but never made the time to let him know. There were mouths to feed and bills to pay and jobs that needed to be done while I forgot the most important job of all.

"You’re my favourite. Don’t tell Soda." I said while ruffling my hand through his hair playfully.

Ponyboy rolled his eyes before turning his head back, but I could hear his soft laugh while his body gently shook with it.

"Pony, nobody expected you to pull through. He hurt you so bad and I wasn’t even sure how much you could take. You’re strong, Pony. You’re stronger than you know, and yeah; I’m very proud of you."

He didn’t say anything; just laid there maybe thinking about what I’d said. After a few minutes, he managed to roll back over. His contracted arm stretched as much as it could to give me a hug.

"Darry?"

"Yeah, little buddy?"

"If you marry your girlfriend, can I still live with you?"

"What?" I looked at him confused.

"Will I have to go away?"

"Ponyboy, what in the world are you talking about? Nobody’s marrying anyone."

"Yeah but you gotta girlfriend now."

"Pony, that doesn’t change a thing. Who’s telling you this shit? Steve? Don’t listen to him, he’s an asshole." I grumbled, knowing full well that was exactly the thing Steve would say to get Pony going.

"But you just said he cared!" Pony groaned, exasperated.

"I said he cared. I didn’t say he wasn’t an asshole." I frowned.

Pony started laughing. "Soda likes him."

"That’s why you’re my favourite."

"Darry!" Pony was still laughing, and I almost got lost in the foreign sound. Ponyboy hardly ever laughed this carefree anymore.

I smiled lazily as I took a peek at the clock. It was late enough that it didn’t even matter by that point. I was going to be tired the next day, but I figured it’d be worth it.

"So can I still stay with you when you get married?" Pony asked softly.

"Ponyboy…" I started to lecture again, but realized there was more to the question that I wasn’t seeing. "Nobody’s gettin’ married, and even if I was it wouldn’t matter. Your place is with me and Sodapop for as long as you can stand it."

"Okay." I could hear the relief in his voice, and I made a mental note to throttle Steve or whoever for putting this shit in my brother’s head.

"Darry?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Thank you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Okay, Darry. I got his hair washed. He’s in the tub finishin’ his bath. Just keep your eyes ‘n ears open for him, he’ll need help gettin’ out."

"Uh huh," I was barely listening to Sodapop ramble on while I was trying not to burn the meal I was cooking for that night.

I just put the chops in the pan and was ready to go pick Beth up from her place while I trusted Soda not to tamper with anything while I was gone for a few minutes. God only knew what sort of mess _Chef_ _Frankenstein_ could conjure up in twelve hundred seconds. Flip the pork chops; that’s all I needed. Can’t screw that up, but what the hell was I going to make for a vegetable…?

"His leg is real bad. He can barely move it today. You listenin’ Darry?"

"Yeah…" Will the potato salad count as a vegetable?

"Darry, Ponyboy’s in the tub. The door’s open but keep an ear out." Soda continued his jibber-jabber as he slipped on his jacket.

"Tub, yeah. Okay, sounds good." I dug through the cupboard and found a can of corn. Corn went with everything. Wait. Why was Soda putting his jacket on?

"Wait a second! Wait! Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?" I spun on my heel when I finally realized that I needed to pay attention to what was happening around me.

"I gotta work." Soda shrugged while I sighed at him in disappointment.

"Sodapop, I’ve had this dinner planned for a couple of weeks now. She wants to meet you guys."

"Darry, what’s the big deal? I met her already. She’s a fox! I love her! If you don’t date her, I will! Thumbs up!" Soda chuckled, but right then I didn’t appreciate his humour.

"This is important, Soda. I wanted to do this as a family."

"Look,” Soda sighed. “I’m sorry Darry. I think she’s great, honest to God! If I’da known, I woulda turned down the shift but I figured this had more to do with Pony meeting her than me."

"Cripes, Soda you’re gone all the time now. The DX that busy?"

Sodapop gave me a strange look before answering, "Yeah, you know how it is. I’m real sorry, Darry. Next dinner for sure! I’ll even cook!" He grinned that grin, and I felt myself give in a little. Why did he inherit all of the Curtis charm?

"You gotta leave right now? I gotta pick Beth up…" I motioned towards the doorway when a soft knock rapped against it.

"Speakin’ of," Sodapop winked at me and left me in the kitchen alone while he headed for the door.

There was still something going on with Sodapop, and he wasn’t talking to anyone about it, and I was worried. He told me I didn’t need to be, but it wasn’t like Soda to keep secrets. I knew there were certain things he didn’t want me to know, but he’d always confided in Ponyboy and lately he wasn’t even doing that.

I was lost in my thoughts wondering what was up with him when I heard his "later Darry" and the door slammed shut behind him just like the door to whatever secrets he kept to himself these days. I heard myself grumbling while my hand moved up to rub the tension from my forehead and a soft voice spoke.

"Are you okay?"

I turned around. "Beth? What are you doing here? I was supposed to pick you up." I rushed to her as I noticed her carrying a bag. "What’s this?" I asked as I took the bag from her after giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"It’s alright, I took a cab. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought dessert."

"Why’d ya take a cab? I could’ve got you."

"I know. I just thought this would be easier."

I stood staring at her; suddenly very aware that this beautiful woman was standing before me in my kitchen. In my very rundown kitchen, in my rundown home and for the first time since high school, where I lived bothered me. I was ashamed.

"Do you want to put that down? It doesn’t need to be refrigerated." She gazed at me.

My stomach gave a painful pull, and I felt my face grimace. She was in my house. In my neighbourhood. This is where I came from; just a low-life greaser that roofs houses for a living just to be able to keep his brothers clothed and fed and who isn’t going anywhere in life. What the fuck was she doing here with me?

"Darry?" Beth grabbed the bag back from me, and turned to set it down on the kitchen table behind her. She turned back quickly and ran her hand across my face concerned. "Darry, what’s going on? Are you alright?"

"I’m sorry. I…" I looked around the kitchen and shrugged. "I cleaned but…it’s not as nice as your place."

Beth’s eyebrows furrowed together as she studied me for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed me while she held my face. It didn’t take much coaxing before I was wrapping my arms around her and kissing her back, and by the time we came up for air I’d forgotten what I was so uptight about.

"I wouldn’t care if you lived in a cardboard box, Darrel. I care about _you_."

"Darry," I corrected quietly; touched by her words but not having a clue how to respond to them.

She rolled her eyes as her face lit up with a smile, and she was in my arms again. The smell of her hair was comforting as I pressed my face to the side of her head and inhaled before kissing her there. I vaguely heard the spit and hiss from the frying pan, and was brought back to reality.

"Shit, sorry!" I broke away reluctantly as I headed for the stovetop to check on the pork chops.

"Smells really good! Can I do anything to help out?"

"Uhhh…" I looked around and spotted the can of corn on the counter. Without answering, I grabbed a pot from the cupboard and placed it on the stovetop, and that’s when I heard my brother.

"Darry? You here?"

"Yeah, little buddy! I’ll be right there!" I hollered back to Ponyboy and turned to Beth apologetically. "I’ll be right back."

"No worries. I’m not going anywhere." Beth smiled before I headed for the bathroom.

"You okay, Pony?" I asked as I strode through the open door to help him out. "Ready to hop out?"

Pony was looking at his hand sourly. "My fingers are wrinkled."

I sighed as I grabbed for the plug to empty the tub, and then pulled the bath towel from the rack and threw it over my shoulder. I stuck my hands under his arms and hauled him up by his armpits over the edge of the tub. Sodapop was right. His leg was bent worse than I’d ever seen it, along with his arm.

"I’ll trade you your wrinkled fingers for my grey hair. Welcome to old age, kiddo. Shoulda stayed a baby." I teased as I wrapped him in the towel and started rubbing over him briskly to dry him off.

"I’m not a baby," Ponyboy frowned.

"No, you shoulda _stayed_ a baby."

"Well then you’d just complain that I was givin’ you more grey hair!" Ponyboy rolled his eyes, and I chuckled. Pony’s face could get so expressive; it spoke in volumes louder than his words at times.

"You’d be givin’ me grey hair anyways. What am I gonna do with you, sell you to the gypsies?" I continued to tease Pony, watching how his face was animated.

"You wouldn’t get very much."

I smiled sadly at the tone he used. I knew Pony was having a hard time adjusting, but he didn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t know how to make it better. I could tell how badly he was missing Johnny; he seemed even more lost without his best friend. Life had changed so fast, and my brother seemed to be fading away inside of it all.

"Darry?" I felt Pony softly touch the hair on my temple, and I looked at him carefully.

"Yeah?"

"You don’t have any grey hair." Pony whispered.

"Not yet. Give it time, kiddo." I waggled my eyebrows at him, and his face lit up. "Let’s get you dressed."

"Wait! Is she here?" Ponyboy tugged on my arm as I tried to head for the door.

"Yeah Pony, she’s in the kitchen waiting. Let’s hustle up." I pulled him towards the door.

"Darry! I ain’t wearin’ anything!" Pony whispered frantically, and I rolled my eyes.

"Ponyboy, that towel is as big as that damned blanket of mom’s. Nobody can see anything. Besides, if she came here to see anyone’s naked ass it’d be mine, not yours." I frowned at him.

"Okay," Pony’s hand started playing with the hair on the top of his head while he turned beet red, and I took pity on the poor kid and threw him over my shoulder and headed for his room.

I tossed him gently on the bed and smiled when he started laughing. I rummaged in the dresser and grabbed a pair of underwear for him to put on while I moved to help. A year ago Ponyboy would’ve hollered at me for barging in his room or the bathroom while he was in any state of undress. He was at that awkward stage where he was going through changes that made him more self conscious than anyone I’d ever met. But there was this complete and total trust in me now, despite the fact that a man had ripped away any security my brother may have felt, and forced himself on him. It amazed me; Ponyboy wasn’t scared of me or Sodapop at all.

"Your leg givin’ you a lot of grief today?" I asked as I watched him struggling with his underwear. Stubborn as the day he was born, he got them on without my help.

"Hurts a little," Pony shrugged, and I grinned at him with pride. He was tough. "My jeans are on the chair. Thanks, Darry."

I nodded as I moved towards the chair, and grabbed his jeans. I knelt in front of him with them, and helped him into them one leg at a time before hiking them along with him up, as he held onto the waistband of my jeans. I carefully zipped up the zipper for him, and finished with the button when I felt Pony tense up.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" I held the side of his face and looked down at him concerned, but his eyes were glued to the half-open door.

"Knock, knock. Dinner’s ready, are you boys okay in here?" Beth’s voice was on the other side of the door. 

"Yeah, I think we’re okay. Just getting dressed." I looked back at Ponyboy and gave him a wink. "T-shirt?" I asked, and he nodded quickly as Beth peeked around the door.

I opened a drawer and grabbed the first thing I saw since I could tell that Pony was uncomfortable. We struggled a bit getting his left arm through first, but once we did the rest was easy. Ponyboy looked at me nervously, and I gave him a smile before giving him my arm so that he could use it to help himself walk. Beth opened the door a bit more and looked on. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth when she watched my brother walk towards her.

"Ponyboy," I couldn’t help but smile at Beth’s amazed expression. "This is Beth. Beth, you remember my brother?"

I could tell my brother was scared. He let go of my arm to hold my hand and was squeezing it hard. His voice didn’t work when he gave Beth a shy ‘hi’. I pried his fingers from around my hand, and wrapped my arm around his shoulders securely to let him know it was okay. I could feel him relax a little, but then worried when I noticed Beth quickly wipe away what I thought was a tear.

"Hi, Ponyboy." Beth’s voice was gentle and soothing, and when she held her hand for Pony to shake, I was pretty sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

Ponyboy slowly took her hand, but decided just to hold it rather than shake it. I tried to gauge his expression to guess what he was thinking, but only Sodapop was able to read him like that; I was still learning. He looked on at her with that unreadable expression, until finally he looked back at me and gave me a goofy grin. I smiled in relief, and bent my head down to kiss his head.

"You hungry, kiddo?" I asked him.

Pony nodded and then took a step towards Beth; still holding her hand, and walked slowly to the kitchen with her help. She looked back at me with a huge smile, and I smiled back at her before winking. It took a few minutes, but Pony managed to limp his way to the kitchen table with Beth helping, and I was a little stunned when I realized that this could very well be the rest of my life.

"You wanna sit beside Darry? You can have my chair." Ponyboy showed Beth where he always sat before looking back at me to check if it was what I wanted.

"It’s alright, Ponyboy. She can take Soda’s chair tonight. Why don’t you sit down, little buddy?" I approached the two of them and took over for Beth. I pulled out the chair for Pony and watched as he slowly sat down.

"Where’s Soda gonna sit?" Pony looked up at me confused, and I felt my jaw tighten, remembering how disappointed I was.

"Workin’ again." I mumbled quietly.

"Oh," Pony replied sadly, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one missing our brother.

I quietly rounded the table, and pulled Soda’s chair out for Beth and gave her a tense smile before she sat down and I helped her push her chair in. I headed for the stove, and stopped in my tracks. Beth had everything dished out and ready to go for us. I smiled.

"Find everything alright?" I laughed while I grabbed a plate for her and Ponyboy. I served them before turning back to get a plate for myself.

"I can hold my own." She shrugged.

I walked to the fridge to grab the potato salad. I’d had the fixings all cooked and ready to go and while I was busy getting ready, Sodapop was throwing it together for me. I’d figured I’d outsmart him by getting everything prepared myself, but when I looked down and saw the smiley face made from hard boiled eggs on top of the salad, I sighed in defeat. Soda was the master.

"Jesus Christ, Soda," I rolled my eyes.

"What’s wrong?" Beth asked concerned.

"What is it, Darry?" Ponyboy asked.

I placed the bowl on the table and shook my head while Ponyboy gave a snort, and Beth started to join in. I smiled in spite of myself, and grabbed a serving spoon from the drawer, and handed it to Beth before sitting down.

"I’m not sure I want to wreck it." Beth looked at me.

"Be thankful it ain’t green or blue." Ponyboy commented wryly, and Beth tried to stifle a laugh.

"He’s an artist?" Beth asked sincerely. Me and Ponyboy looked at each other and started to laugh.

"He’s an idiot. The next dinner is on him. Bring an open mind." I warned, and Beth looked at me apprehensively.

"Warning noted. He’s been working really hard." I mistook Beth’s comment for a question as I watched as she dished out a helping of mom’s potato salad.

"Barely see him anymore. Things must be crazy at the DX. It’s funny Steve hasn’t said anything. He say anything to you, Pony?"

Pony shook his head in reply as Beth handed me the spoon for the salad, and I dished a small portion out for Pony before digging some out for myself.

"Is he still there full time? It seems like he’s at the hospital everyday now." Beth commented off-handedly while she started cutting her pork chop. I froze.

"At the hospital?"

"To be honest, I thought maybe he’d be too young, but he’s so great. He fits in and everyone just loves him!" Beth looked up and stopped. "What’s wrong?"

"Is Sodapop sick, Darry? Why is he in the hospital all the time?" I could hear the panic start to rise in my brother, and I reached over to grab his hand.

"Shhhh, it’s okay. He’s fine Ponyboy." I tried to reassure him, but I had no clue what was going on with our brother.

"Then why is he in the hospital?" Pony cried, and I shuffled my chair over so I could calm him down.

"He’s not a patient sweetie, he’s an orderly." Beth looked at us confused until it dawned on her. "You didn’t know?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"You didn't know?"

Beth looked as clueless as I felt. Why wouldn't Sodapop tell his brothers he was working at the hospital? It wasn't glamorous work, but neither was working at a service station pumping gas and fixing cars, or roofing houses, so what I was really confused about was all of the secrecy. Why would my brother feel it necessary to keep it from Pony and I?

I shook my head in reply but turned back to Ponyboy when he dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. Like me, he was worried about Soda, and along with everything that'd happened, he heard the word hospital used in the same sentence as his brother's name and automatically was convinced of the worst.

"Just take it easy, Pony. Soda's okay, he's just got himself a new job. That's all." I spoke in a calm voice as I let my fingers comb through the hair on the back of his head.

"Then why would he lie?" Pony's eyebrows furrowed as he teared up, and all I could do was shrug. I had no idea.

"I'm sure he has his reasons." I covered, even though right then I figured his reasons were a lot of buffalo chips.

"I'm so sorry. I…I'm sorry." Beth looked at me apprehensively.

"It's okay," I looked at Beth, and then turned back to Ponyboy. "It's okay."

"But how do you know?" Ponyboy was intent on worrying over his brother, and I knew I had to put a stop to it before he got too juiced up to the point where I wouldn't be able to calm him down.

"Pony," I moved closer to him and held his face in my hands while I looked him in the eyes. "I would _never_ lie to you about Sodapop. _Ever_! He's alright. Let's just take it easy and I'll sort everything out when he gets home, okay?"

Ponyboy nodded as he looked on at me. He knew I would never keep anything from him if it were about Soda, especially if it were serious. He knew I meant what I said. Pony took a steady breath and closed his eyes. I pushed my chair back and looked down at my plate.

"Let's just enjoy supper. Beth said she brought us dessert." I looked at Ponyboy and smirked when he seemed to perk up a smidge.

"It's nothing much, don't get too excited. Just brownies." Beth played it down but little did she know, Ponyboy was a nut for anything chocolate.

"I like brownies!” He smiled meekly.

The evening wasn't a complete loss, but I could tell that Beth was kicking herself about blowing Soda's secret even though like me and Ponyboy, she wasn't sure why it was a secret in the first place. She was scared that there'd be a rift between us because of her letting the cat out of the bag, and even though I'd wanted her to stay, she left early that evening anyways.

Pony helped me clean up before I sent him into the living room to watch television. There wasn't a lot he could do given only one arm was usable, so I let him clear the table while I washed up the dishes and let them dry on the rack and the towel beside the sink. I was getting a sinking feeling that things were spinning beyond my control, and I hated it. Sodapop’s eighteenth birthday would be just around the corner, and I was suddenly worried that my brother was planning to move on.

I didn't blame Soda if he wanted out; part of me actually wished that he would. I'd come to depend on Sodapop so much; maybe I depended on him too much, but it wasn't just for helping with the bills or with Ponyboy. Soda was more than just a brother to me. He was the one person in the world I knew I could always count on since losing our parents. No matter what was going on, Soda had my back. Even when I was being an idiot, I could trust that Soda would point me in the right direction. I knew I was being selfish, but I didn't want to lose that.

Ponyboy was sound asleep in his own room when the stinkin' thinkin' started, and I was like a two year old trying to sit still for a family photograph. It was the third day of October, and the house was suddenly suffocating me as my thoughts and worries screeched to the surface and tried to smother me. I sat on the steps of the porch to see if the fresh air would help. The sun was just starting to set and I tried to focus on the changing colours of the leaves on all of the trees, but all it did was remind me of how much life had changed.

I noticed Soda walking towards the house some time after, and I was ready to get to the bottom of things and confront him. But by the time he reached the walkway up to the house, my stomach was tied in knots, and I just didn't know what to do with him.

"What the hell ya doin' out here, Darry? Where's Beth?" Soda's smile lit up the dusk, and my stomach ached even more.

"Home," I managed to get out while I stared at my hands as they fidgeted.

"How'd it go?"

I nodded. "Good," still unable to look at him.

"What did Ponyboy think? Did he like her?" Soda asked as he sat down next to me on the step.

"Yeah," I was still nodding. "I think so."

"What's wrong, Darry? You still mad about me working? I'm sorry, Darry. I really mean it. I…"

"How's the new job, Soda?" I cut him off as he was still spewing out his apology.

"What?"

"The new job. Just what in the hell's goin' on? Why are you suddenly keeping things from me?" I asked and watched as the color drained from Soda's face. "You're gonna be eighteen in a few. If you want out, I get it. It's okay."

I was finally able to look Soda in the eyes, and I watched him as his face turned from shock, to total confusion and frustration, and then sudden defeat as he sighed heavily and looked away from me. He rubbed a hand over his face as one leg started bobbing up and down nervously, and I couldn't help but swallow hard as my stomach gave another pull and I became terrified of hearing his next words.

"I want Ponyboy."

He wanted Ponyboy? I looked at Sodapop in confusion. "What?"

Sodapop sighed heavily again. "I said, I want Ponyboy. I wanna take care of him."

"What are you talking about? You do take care of him." I shrugged, and now I was looking at Soda as though he had an extra eyeball in the middle of his forehead.

"No, Darry. I wanna be his guardian."

A barrage of mixed thoughts and emotions whirled in my head and my heart as my stomach clenched itself until I actually winced. Sodapop wanted to take over.

I felt like I should mourn for the reckless boy that was no more. Where did he go? He was an eighteen year old kid. He should've been out with Steve drag racing or out picking up girls, but instead he was worrying about taking over guardianship of our handicapped brother, and I didn't know why. But then that gnawing memory came back like it always did. The night I'd never escape; the night I'd hit Pony, essentially making him the way that he was. He'd always need somebody watching over him. I had one job after our parents died and I failed, and it was possible my brother thought so too.

"Am I doing that bad of a job?" I looked at Sodapop, trying to keep a handle on my emotions, but at the same time feeling like a complete, utter failure.

"God, no! Darry, you're the best! No! That ain't it. It's just…don't ya think it's gettin' time for you to move on?"

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Sodapop?"

"You deserve a life, Darry. You gave up everything. I'm older now and I got the extra job." Soda shrugged. "You have yourself a real special girl. Why not run with it?"

"'Cause I ain't you, that's why! I'm dancing around with two left feet, Sodapop! Y'know, the two of you must think I'm some sort of asshole. You think I sit here at night pining for a life I could've had? Do you think I sit around twirling my moustache, trying to come up with a plan on how to get away from you two? Thanks a lot, little brother."

My face felt hot when I stood up abruptly, and stomped into the house leaving Sodapop by himself outside. I was tired, and emotionally drained. One brother was asking me if he was still allowed to live with me after he'd already had me married off, and the other is practically pushing me out the front door.

I headed for the bathroom to the medicine chest, and grabbed for the bottle of antacid Greg had prescribed in what felt like forever ago. I took a couple of good swallows, cringing at the taste. When I turned around, Soda was looking at me worriedly while standing just outside the bathroom door.

"Your stomach is actin' up." Soda stated rather than asked. "Darry, you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay." I spoke under my breath without looking at him, and then brushed by him as I headed for my room.

I knew he was behind me. I didn't bother shutting the door as I turned the bedside lamp on and proceeded to pull my shirt off over my head as I got ready to put an end to another day.

"Darry, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You fuckin' kidding me, kid? You been sneakin' around so much that Pony and I can't make heads or tails. You're keepin' secrets and shuttin' the both of us out. Now you got my bags practically packed, tellin' me my time is through and it's time to saddle up and fuck off. Gee, Soda; I don't know. What could possibly be wrong with me?"

"No, Darry. You got it wrong! I ain't tryin' to shut you out or get you out. That ain't what I'm tryin' to do."

"Yeah? You said you want custody of Ponyboy. Tell me how I got it wrong!" I threw my shirt past Soda's head and into the hamper.

"Darry, please!" Soda pleaded with me. "I swear it ain't like that. Oh my, God stop! Can we just talk?"

I looked at my brother hard, and realized I was one big bundle of exposed nerves. My stomach clenched, and I dropped down to sit on the edge of my bed, burying my head in my hands.

"I hurt you. I'm so sorry, I wasn't tryin' to do that, or make you feel like I think you’re doing a shitty job! I just wanna give you the same chance you give me and Pony. I just want you to be happy, Darry. I'm finally in a position I can do for you what you always did for me." Soda's voice tried to calm me as he sat beside me.

"Do you really think I'd be anywhere else than here?"

"No I don't because you're amazing, Darry. I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done for me. You're amazing, and I love the shit outta you, but you don't gotta always be puttin' yourself last for me and Ponyboy. You don't gotta be workin' yourself to the bone all the time for us."

"So you're going to instead?" I sat up straight, cocking an eyebrow at my brother.

"I can do it, Darry. You don't gotta anymore."

"I never _had_ to do anything, Soda! I thought you knew that? We're blood—we’re all we have left. Without each other we have nothing. That's what separates us from all the other hoods in this town. Don’t you know how much the two of you mean to me?" I brought my hand up to rub Soda's back. "You two will always come first, Sodapop."

"But what about Beth?" Soda looked worried again.

"She understands. Hell, she even figured it out before I did." I sighed. “I care about her, but I’m not going to force her into anything. If she ain’t sick of my bullshit with time, then she’ll fit in this crazy herd too.”

"I'm sorry, Darry." Soda looked sad.

"Why? I'm not. This is where I belong."

"He ever gonna get better, Darry?" Soda looked at me, and I really didn't know what to tell him.

"I don't know, little buddy. But he's alive, and he's with us, and that's more than we can ever ask for after what he had to go through."

"He'll need somebody to take care of him the rest of his life." Soda said what I'd known for awhile.

"He's got the both of us. That's why we gotta stick together." And it suddenly dawned on me what Soda was trying to do. I was just too scared to see it. "We can share the load. We can do it together."

"What do we do?" He asked.

I grinned thinking about Soda's words earlier. "We love the shit outta him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It's another long night. Ponyboy is sandwiched between Soda and I as those torturous two months come back to haunt him once again. He's moaning and grimacing and his head is whipping back and forth while he's fighting his on-going battle with that cocksucking monster.

In spite of the encouraging whispers and shushes, and in spite of how gently Sodapop and I let our hands run over him and around him, I can't do anything anymore but revel in the cruelty of it all. It took only two months for Campbell to convince my brother about his lack of worth, but it feels like it's taking two lifetimes for me and Soda to teach him otherwise. Part of me knows it's too late. This isn't the Ponyboy from before. He's broken.

When the weeping starts, I'm almost relieved, and I hate myself for being so selfish. It's the middle of the night with only a few more hours left to rest, and I know that along with the tears comes exhaustion, and soon Ponyboy will be too drained to dream about anything, and I'll be able to get some sleep before another day begins. I wonder stupidly how many more nights it'll take before he doesn't dream about monsters anymore…

* * *

..."Ain't it scary?"

The three of us were up a little earlier than usual so we'd have time to talk before we scattered about to our every day routines. I hated having to work that extra job at the lumber yard, but I hated that Soda thought he needed a second job even more.

Sodapop insisted on carrying equal weight when it came to running the household, and to me that was just him growing into manhood. What really bothered me about his extra work hours on top of my extra work hours, was that it left even less time for us to be with Pony. I knew Pony was longing for some independence back, but the fact remained that he wasn't able to get around very far without somebody there to lend a hand. He'd shut himself off and didn't want to talk much about how his life was carrying on beyond the four walls of home. With us gone, there was less opportunity to try.

I looked on at my brothers, and figured that I looked as frazzled as they did. Sodapop's eyes drooped as he fought to keep them open, and Ponyboy had dark circles under his along with the unkempt hair that he still refused to put any hair grease on. We sat together for those few extra minutes and talked over cereal, toast, and chocolate milk. Pony seemed curious about Soda's new job at the hospital, but he was also frightened.

"Nah, it's not so bad all the time." Soda yawned, but Pony looked unconvinced.

"Is there lots of blood 'n stuff? Don't people die?"

"Pony," I gave him a look to get him to settle down.

"I don't see much of that stuff, honey. I just help move patients and help take them for tests. Stuff like that."

"It's not scary?"

"Nothing's as scary as when you were there, Ponyboy." Soda looked at his brother soberly. "Nothing will ever be as bad as that."

Ponyboy looked thoughtful as he stared at his half eaten slice of toast. We were teetering on that edge; do we talk about what happened, or do we try to move on regardless? It was important to me not to push Ponyboy into a conversation that would leave him feeling the anguish he felt for those two months while he lived with Martin Campbell, but at the same time I wasn't sure if I was reading his signals right. Would I even know when he was ready to talk if he didn't outright tell me?

"Maybe you can have a nurse girlfriend like Darry's got." Ponyboy grinned at Soda, and Sodapop let out a laugh.

"Not likely, Ponyboy. The girls there only ask me about you all the time. Maybe you should visit more often and get yourself a nurse?" Sodapop teased.

Pony blushed a little while he looked at his lap shrugging and mumbled. "It could come in handy."

Soda and I stifled a laugh and I reached over to ruffle Pony's hair. He looked at me and grinned a little before taking a small bite of his toast.

"Hey! Moron! You ready or what?"

I shot Soda a look when Ponyboy jumped as the front door slammed behind Steve who was here to pick Ponyboy up for school. He sauntered in, nodding with a quick grunt of salutation as he headed straight for the counter to grab himself a chunk of chocolate cake. Pony reached for his chocolate milk, and began drinking it down.

"Hurry up, shithead. I don't wanna be late. You take too long walkin' up those steps." Steve muttered, and I felt my temper soar.

"Cool it, Steve!" Soda looked at his best friend angrily; his own temper clearly tested from Steve's attitude towards our brother.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Steve answered defensively while pointing a finger at Ponyboy. "I tried bein' nice and he told me to stop."

Soda and I both looked at Ponyboy who shrugged his shoulders, frowned and nodded.

"See?" Steve sounded like a five year old as he weaselled his way out of getting a blast from me and Sodapop.

"Go brush your teeth." I nodded at Pony while I grabbed his arm to help steady him as he got up from the kitchen table.

It was quiet as the three of us watched Pony struggle his way towards the bathroom. There was so much going on with him that I wasn't even aware of. I looked over at Steve, suddenly noticing some fresh bruises on the one side of his face as he practically shoved the entire piece of cake in that big mouth of his.

"If you don't watch it, you'll be getting a matching set for the other side of that ugly mug of yours." I promised through clenched teeth as I spoke under my breath.

"Man, I'm tellin' ya. The kid lost his shit on me. Said some crap about the only thing he could count on was me bein' a jerk and to stop acting nice." Steve shrugged as he sat down in Pony's empty chair. "I told him, no problem. Don't worry, man. You know I wouldn't hurt the little runt. I'm actually starting to like him. Kinda like havin' a puppy."

My eyebrows flew up and I rubbed my eye when it started to feel like it was going to pop out of its socket. Sodapop started to snicker, but his eyes looked as worried as I felt.

"What happened to you anyway? Run into some trouble?" Soda frowned, motioning to the side of Steve's face before getting up to grab a piece of cake. "Want some, Darry?"

"No, little buddy. Thanks." I waved him off before turning my attention to Steve.

"Nothin'. Just the usual." Steve answered shortly, telling us in his own way to drop it.

'Just the usual' for Steve was getting his ass handed to him by his old man. I'd only met his dad on a handful of occasions, and my one impression of the man was that he was a grade A, certifiable asshole. He was curt, unfriendly, and thought nothing of kicking the shit out of his son when he felt the need. Steve was pretty rough around the edges, but it was a wonder he wasn't more of a dick, thanks to his dad.

"Couch is yours, buddy." Soda patted Steve on the shoulder before sitting down to eat his cake.

"Thanks," Steve mumbled before yelling "yo, dipshit! You're making me wait!"

My eye twitched and I found myself rubbing it again while Sodapop reached over the table and punched his best friend in the shoulder hard. Steve flinched, but then smirked as he reached back and tied to grab the piece of cake out of Soda's hand. Steve might have been the tougher of the two, but Soda was faster.

"Oh, you wanna piece of this?" Soda warned, and Steve just scoffed at him.

"Bring it on, pretty boy!"

"Whatever the hell you two decide on doing with that cake, make sure you clean it up before you leave." I rolled my eyes as I stood up from the table and headed towards the bathroom to check on Ponyboy.

I heard the kitchen table scrape along the floor as it got shoved out of the way, and then the sound of chairs tipping over before there was grunting and swearing.

"Don't break my house!" I yelled over my shoulder before sticking my head around the bathroom door. Pony was sitting on the closed toilet seat, staring at his feet.

"Hey, you ready for school?"

My brother nodded silently, but looked absolutely glum. I knew that he was no longer a fan of going to school, only from conversations I'd had with Sodapop. The kids were rough with him, he wasn't as quick to catch onto things as before, and besides the jerk in the kitchen that was wrestling Sodapop over a piece of cake, he was alone.

"What's wrong, Pony?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"I don't wanna go."

"Pony," I sighed as I walked over and knelt down in front of him. "You gotta go to school. Look, I know it's hard but you just gotta stick with it and it'll get easier."

"I can't do it, Darry." Pony looked at me desperately, and it took me off guard. "I can't do it anymore."

"Yes you can. Just do your best, that's all I'm asking, Ponyboy. Just do your best, okay?"

Ponyboy didn't say anything, he just nodded once and stared at the floor to avoid eye contact with me. I hated seeing him so miserable, but there was nothing I could do to make it better without him opening up to me.

"What if I pick you up from school today?" I blurted out, grasping at anything that I thought could lift his spirits. "I'll tell Soda to meet us for a burger, and you can come with me so we can spend some time together. Whadaya say?"

"Don't you gotta be at work?" Pony sniffed as he rubbed at his nose. I could tell it was taking everything he had to keep it together.

"I'll call in and tell them I'll be late."

"Who's babysitting me tonight?" Pony's voice was cold, and for the first time he moved away when I tried to touch him.

"Nobody's babysitting you. They're here making sure you don't throw any wild parties while I'm workin' my ass off." I gave Pony a playful punch.

"Yeah, right." Ponyboy frowned and rolled his eyes at me.

"Whadaya say, little buddy?" I tried again. Pony nodded reluctantly, but I still took it as a good sign.

"If you want, you can even invite Steve." I winked at my brother and wasn't quite prepared for his reaction.

"Oh, goody!" He said dryly as his eyebrows shot up and his eyes were as big as saucers.

For a split second Ponyboy was there, and I felt my stomach do a flip in excitement. I laughed and reached out to cup his face, and this time he let me and rewarded me with a small smile.

I managed to get off work a little early which worked out well. Instead of meeting Sodapop at The Dingo, I headed straight over to the DX to pick him up, and we both headed to the school to get Ponyboy, giving us even more needed time together.

I pulled the truck up to the front of the school just before the bell rang, announcing to everyone in the vicinity that the school day was finished, and to lock up their houses as the mass of no-good teenagers were let loose from their prison. The windows were rolled down, and Sodapop had the radio cranked as The Who came on, and suddenly he was a little kid again while he frantically pounded on a drum set that only existed in his mind. Keith Moon could've had a run for his money.

My grin turned into a full blown smile as my foot tapped to the beat, and I found my head was bobbing on it's own accord while I kept an eye out for our little brother. I let out a laugh when Soda smacked his elbow against the door while acting like a maniac, and howled through laughter letting me know he'd made contact with his funny bone.

"AHHHH! Oh my God! Why do they call it a funny bone? There ain't nothin' funny about it!" He winced as he held onto his arm as though it were going to pop off his body at any second.

"Serves you right. Why don't you take it easy? People are starting to stare." I grinned, and then pointed to the doors as Pony and Steve finally made their exit.

I watched on in a sort of fascination as one of the biggest assholes I knew, carried my brother's books for him all while holding onto him as he slowly took small steps carefully down the concrete stairs from the school. I shook my head amazed; everything Sodapop had loved about his best friend was out there in the open for the world to witness, and I was so impressed by him that I didn't notice the group of socs that were walking a little too closely behind my brother.

"Hurry up, Grease."

I heard the snarl before I saw the look of fright on Ponyboy's face, and saw him head face first down the rest of the steps. Steve dropped the books in an effort to break Pony's fall, but it was too late. I had my hand on the latch to the door, and Sodapop was already out of the truck, screaming like a banshee.

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

There was no holding my brother back. There was only one thing in the world that could set that boy off, and that was messing with his little brother. You just didn't want to go there. Not even God himself could help you out once Soda Patrick Curtis got a hold of you.

As much as I wanted a turn, my focus was on Ponyboy. I rushed over to him as he lay flat on his face on the sidewalk motionless. I looked up as Steve jumped over the stair railing and along with Soda it looked like a full-on rumble was about to start in front of Will Rogers High. It was the poor kids against the rich kids, and I knew I had to get Soda and Steve out of there before the teachers or the cops showed up, but I had to take care of Pony first.

"You alright? Pony?" I pulled on his good shoulder to get him to turn over. He shrugged me off.

He slowly managed to get himself into a sitting position, and I worriedly inspected the damage. Blood came gushing out of his nose, and he brought his one good hand up and it shook violently while he tipped his head back holding it. There were scrapes and the start of bruising on his arms for what I could see, but I couldn't tell if anything was broken.

"We gotta go before your brother kills that kid. Can you walk?"

Pony looked at me coldly as his body started trembling. I could tell he wanted to fall apart, but he was still as stubborn as the day he was born and wouldn't crack. He finally nodded, and winced in pain as I held him under his arms and got him up on his feet. I jogged over to where Steve had dropped his books, and hurriedly collected them before heading back to Pony. I looked over my shoulder at the war on the front green of the high school, and gave a whistle to let Sodapop and Steve know it was time to get the hell out of there.

We made it to the truck, and I tossed the books into the bed while I stood with Pony at the passenger side, and a minute later Sodapop and Steve dodged out of the battle. Steve gave me a triumphant salute as he headed to his car. Sodapop was immediately all over his brother. I nodded my approval to him as I quickly made my way to the driver's side and got in. Sodapop all but lifted Pony into the truck, and I peeled out of there while the fighting continued behind us.

"You gonna be okay, kiddo?" Sodapop took his shirt off, and had it pressed to Pony's nose with one hand, while he ran his other hand through Pony's hair. Pony didn't answer.

"I can't believe those assholes." I muttered under my breath.

"Yeah, well what did you expect, Darry?" Soda snapped. "This ain't nothin' new. Did ya think it was gonna get better just cuz Pony's a cripple now?"

"He's not a cripple! He's just gotta be smart, lay low, and stay out of the way!" I yelled back, and found myself in that old, familiar pattern.

"Sure, Darry." Ponyboy finally broke his silence as his voice croaked. "I'll just grow eyes in the back of my head."

I looked over at Pony as he finally broke. Sodapop looked at me worriedly as his arms snaked around his little brother and held him tight. Pony choked and sputtered as his nose continued to bleed, and I could no longer concentrate on the road, so I turned the truck onto a residential street and pulled over. I killed the engine before looking over at my brothers.

"Ponyboy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry." I reached over to rub his back. He let me.

"Shhhh…" Sodapop started a gentle swaying motion, like he was rocking a baby to sleep.

Pony continued to sob, but whatever Soda was doing, it seemed to work. In a few minutes Pony stopped crying, and turned his head from his brother's chest. His voice was muffled through Sodapop's t-shirt that was now stained in his own blood, but his words were crystal clear.

"I fucking hate that place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

The calming effect Sodapop had on Ponyboy didn’t last long. By the time I started the engine back up and headed for home, he’d broken down again and I wasn’t sure if he was still using Soda’s shirt to stop his nosebleed, or try to hide the fact that he was crying. When I turned the truck onto our street, I knew that I was out of my element. I didn’t know what to do anymore; my mind was racing and I had that all too familiar feeling like somebody had just punched me in the gut.

Steve was already there waiting for us when I pulled the truck up into the drive and cut the engine. His face was blank and unreadable as he opened the passenger door for Soda, and looked over at Ponyboy as he choked on the last of his tears.

"Kid alright?" Steve asked Sodapop, but then looked at me when Soda didn’t answer. I was about to answer for him when Ponyboy let out a yelp as Sodapop pulled on him to get him out of the truck.

"What is it, Ponyboy?" Soda watched his brother, concern written all over his face, especially when our little brother broke down again and started sobbing.

"Man, those socs got no conscience at all. Don’t worry, Ponyboy. This ain’t over, kid. Me and Sodapop ain’t gonna let this one go."

"I don’t care!" Pony yelled, and then cried harder than I thought was even possible. "I just wanna go to bed! I just wanna go to bed!"

"Okay, c’mon honey." Soda gently wrapped an arm around his brother, but pulled back quickly when Pony hissed and flinched away in pain. I was out of the truck and next to my brothers before Soda could call my name.

"Somethin’s wrong, Darry." Soda shook his head as he looked at me worriedly.

"Pony, what’s goin’ on? What’s wrong, where are you hurt?" I tried reaching out for him, but my hand quickly fell to my side when my brother recoiled away from me like I were about to beat him.

"Why don’t you ever listen? I said I wanna go to bed!" Pony lashed out at me and I stood there dumbfounded while Soda looked between the two of us.

"Let’s go, Pony. It’s okay." Soda gently wrapped his arm back around his brother, this time at the waist and lead him up to the house from the driveway.

"Okay then. Well, this looks like a good time for me to split," Steve commented under his breath while giving me a pat on the back. "If you need anything gimme a call, Darry."

I nodded silently, no longer able to look at Soda and Pony, only able to look down at my worn out boots. There was a bad taste in my mouth of the past coming back, and it wasn’t the past I was longing for. I’d pushed Pony too hard knowing, but ignoring the fact that I wasn’t dealing with the same brother I’d had a year ago. He didn’t need to tell me that he didn’t want to go to school anymore; I’d known he was miserable before I’d even had the conversation with Sodapop, but I still chose to ignore it. I ignored the signs, and my brother was paying for it. He’d be paying for all of my mistakes for the rest of his life.

I had the sudden urge to flee. The decision I was going to have to make sat heavy in my gut, and I could feel it eat away at my insides. I’d been working myself into an early grave trying to avoid this. I didn’t want this for either one of my brothers, but Ponyboy especially. He was special. He had a gift; we all knew it. I wanted him to grab every opportunity I knew would be thrown at him, and make something of himself; to do great things and get the fuck out of Tulsa. School was his only hope, and now he was about to lose everything.

"Darry?"

I hadn’t realized I’d even made it into the house until Soda’s voice brought me out of my clusterfuck of thoughts and emotions. I looked at him and felt my stomach clench, not knowing how any of our lives were going to turn out just then. I foolishly wondered if there was anything I could’ve done differently to change the course for either of my brothers. We were past the point of apologies, but apologies were all I had left to give.

"Is he okay?" I could barely get the words out of my mouth as I felt my eyes start to burn and my throat tightened up on me.

"I think he needs somebody to look at him. He’s hurting but he ain’t talkin’ to me right now." Soda answered. He looked a little apprehensive, and even though I didn’t think it was possible, I felt worse.

I nodded as I slowly walked to the phone. A better man would’ve taken his brother to the hospital, but a better man wouldn’t need to be working two jobs; neglecting his family while struggling to make ends meet. A better man wouldn’t rely on his younger brother to drop out of school so he could work a shit job to help pay the bills while his other little brother was about to become a drop-out too. I rubbed my head slowly and dialled.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you busy?" My voice felt thick as I struggled to speak.

"Not right now. Darry? What’s wrong?"

"Can I come pick you up? I need someone to come look at Pony."

"Why? What’s wrong, Darry? What happened? Is he okay?"

"I don’t…I don’t really know. Some kids shoved him down the stairs at school. Can you come take a look at him?"

" _What_? Oh my God, does he need to go to the hospital?"

I flinched. A better man would’ve been there already. "I don’t know. I thought you could just take a look at him first to make sure."

"I’ll be there right away!"

"I can come get you." I barely got the sentence out.

"Don’t be ridiculous! Stay with him! I’ll be there in a few minutes!"

Beth hung up the phone on me, and I stood there staring at the receiver trying to figure out what to do next. I wanted to go in and be with him, but he’d made it pretty clear he didn’t want me around right then. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if he needed me at all; he had Soda. I slowly put the receiver down as my vision began to blur, and I brought my hands up to my face.

"Darry, he’ll be okay."

Sodapop’s soft voice wrapped me in even more guilt. I was supposed to be the one giving out reassurances, not taking them to soothe my own guilty conscience. I looked at him and shook my head. Pony was definitely never going to be okay and for the very first time ever, I wondered if I should’ve been so quick to take on guardianship of my brothers. For the first time ever, I wondered if he would’ve been better off without me.

"Darry?" Soda was suddenly there; his fingers combing through the hair at the nape of my neck, and I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him. "Darry, it’s gonna be okay."

"How can you say that?" I shook my head as I felt the warm wetness as it moved down my cheek. I continued shaking my head while I wiped my nose suddenly. "I did this. He don’t even want me touching him."

"Darry, Pony loves you. Don’t ever question how much." Something in Soda’s voice commanded me to look at him and to listen. "But we gotta figure this shit out. You know he can’t go back there. You gotta let this go."

"I CAN’T!" I yelled as I shrugged Sodapop’s hand off of me, and took three or four paces to distance myself from him.

The fact was, that I couldn’t let it go. I wanted more for Ponyboy than to wind up being another good-for-nothing greaser that dropped out of school. My youngest brother had everything taken away from him, and this was just icing on the cake.

"Darry, I know how much this is killing you but you gotta look at it from Pony’s eyes. How can he even concentrate on the school work when he’s gotta worry about those assholes taunting him or worse, beating the shit outta him like they tried to today?"

"Great. So I just let him be a drop out? He can sit around the house and waste away to nothing?" I shook my head. "He deserves more than this."

"Darry, he wasn’t even passing." Soda looked at me sadly.

"What do you mean?" I looked on at Sodapop with confusion. "I checked his homework every night. He was doing fine."

"He’s smart as hell, Darry. He just couldn’t do it once he was in class."

"WHY DIDN’T I KNOW ANY OF THIS?" I yelled at Sodapop, but stopped in my tracks when I noticed him flinch. His expression did more than answer my question.

Ponyboy knew how I’d react, so he just kept on going to school to keep me happy. I felt that old jealousy come back; that feeling of inadequacy when I compared Sodapop’s relationship with Ponyboy to my own. But then it all made so much sense. Why wouldn’t Pony confide in Soda, when he knew all I would do was get angry and push him further than he knew he could go?

"He’s tryin’ to be strong, Darry. He don’t want you to think he’s giving up." Soda looked at me hard.

"That’s stupid! I know how strong he is!" I snapped at Soda again as I wiped my eyes dry with the heels of my hands. When I looked at him, he looked back at me sadly.

"It’s not stupid. It’s Ponyboy. He feels things different than you, Darry. You’re Superman to him. He thinks he has to be tough in front of you so you’ll think he’s strong like you."

"That kid is stronger than I ever was, Sodapop. He’s better than I could ever be." I said quietly deflated.

The thought of Ponyboy wanting to be like me seemed to take the fight away from me just then, and I felt nothing but a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want this for him. He deserved a better life; deserved more than I could give him.

I vaguely heard a car door slam before the front door whipped open, and Beth ran in breathless. She shook her head as Soda and I slowly approached. I noticed she had her work bag with her even though she was wearing jeans under her long coat.

"Where is he? Is he okay? What happened?"

"He’s in our room, Beth. I’ll show you." Soda put his arm around Beth’s shoulders as he lead her from the front door into his and Pony’s bedroom, leaving me there by myself.

I tried to sit down and wait for Beth to come back and tell me what kind of shape Ponyboy was in, but my mind wouldn’t shut itself off, and I found myself pacing back and forth across the living room floor. I thought about all of the things I’d taken for granted when I was younger. The freedom, the ability to make choices without worrying who’s life you’d destroy along the way. I thought about my parents and how they’d handle today, but realized it never would’ve happened in the first place had they still been here. They always knew the right thing to do, or knew the right thing to say. I took so much for granted. The thought creeped in, and I wondered what they would think about the way I was handling things. I could feel that fist close itself around my stomach as I tried not to fall into the hole I dug for myself.

I heard Ponyboy yell out, and my feet carried me towards his room. I had no way of knowing just how badly he was hurt when he wouldn’t even let me touch him. I heard another yell, and I felt my stomach twist itself so tight I could hardly catch my breath. My hand clutched onto the front of my shirt as the pain increased, and I made a turn for the bathroom instead.

I kicked the door closed behind me when the next painful twist landed me on my knees in front of the toilet, and I tried to steady myself with my hands on either side of the bowl before I felt the burning in my throat from my own bile. I wished wildly for some relief as the first onslaught of vomit reached the bowl of the toilet, but this purge wasn’t to expel anything spoiled I’d eaten. I felt the alarm when I noticed the blood streak in with the bile, but all of that was brushed aside when Soda’s knock on the door brought me out of my shock.

"Darry, he’s asking for you."

I eased up from my knees; flushing the toilet clean before heading to the sink to wash my hands. I noticed the traces of blood at the corner of my mouth as I looked up at the mirror, and hastily splashed water on my face to clean any evidence of what just happened. I turned the taps off, dried my face with the hand towel, and opened the medicine chest where I found my much needed bottle of antacid. I drank it down.

I was practically on my toes when I headed for the bedroom. I didn’t know what to expect. I slid through the partially open doorway, and watched as Soda slipped himself in next to Ponyboy’s left side, tucking and fluffing pillows while Beth was at his right side, still looking him over.

"He was calling for you," Beth looked at me pointedly before standing up from the bed.

I looked at my youngest brother who appeared to be sleeping, and looked back at Beth and I knew something was wrong.

"What’s going on?" I shook my head but then reached out to hold Beth’s arm while she brought her hand up to wipe at her eyes.

"Well, I’m pretty sure his collarbone is broken, but I don’t know how bad. We managed to get him comfortable with the pillows, but I don’t know for how long."

"Is his nose broken?" I asked, remembering the blood that gushed out of it when he sat up from the sidewalk of the school.

"It’s pretty sore, but not broken from what I can tell. Look, Darry I’m not a doctor. They’d patch him up better if you got him to the hospital."

My hands flew up to my face and I wasn’t sure if I was about to throw up again, or break down. I took an unsteady breath through clenched teeth as I struggled for control. I felt Beth’s hands on my arms as she gently pulled mine down.

"Let me call Greg. He’s got the day off today. I want to make sure I didn’t miss anything. He’ll know how bad the break is or if he really needs to go to the hospital once he takes a look at him, okay?"

I couldn’t speak without losing face, so I nodded. She pressed her face into my shoulder while her hand stroked my jaw.

"I can’t believe somebody would ever want to do this to him. What the hell is the matter with people? He hasn’t been through enough?" She was angry; a part of her I’d never seen before.

I grabbed her hand and held it tight while I brought it up to my lips. I kissed her on her knuckles before letting her hand go, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ because I still didn’t trust myself to speak. She nodded at me sadly before leaving to go use the phone.

I carefully approached the bed, slowly sitting down on Pony’s unaffected side. Soda looked at me worriedly but gave a soft smile when I noticed the stuffed horse I’d bought Ponyboy while he was fighting for his life in the PICU not so very long ago. He’d had it shoved under his right arm. I ran my thumb and index finger through the mane, and startled a bit when I saw Pony’s eyes open.

"I…" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat of the dryness that seemed to linger. "I didn’t mean for you to wake up. How are you feeling?"

I couldn’t read his expression at first. Ponyboy stared at me blankly, and I couldn’t really tell what was going to happen between the silence of the room and the guilt that refused to be silent in my head. It wasn’t until my youngest brother started crying again, that I tried again to reach out to him.

"Awe, Pony," I choked, wanting to be able to take the pain away so I could bear it for him.

"Darry, I’m so sorry!" Ponyboy cried, and I looked at him in confusion as Soda wiggled closer to him in an effort to calm him down.

"Pony, wha…"

"I’m so sorry that I yelled at you! I didn’t mean it! I’m so sorry, Darry! I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad at me!"

"Pony…"

I leaned over him, my hands holding his face as I rested my forehead against his own. I could feel him struggle as he tried to get control over his emotions, but then just cried harder when he realized that he couldn’t.

"I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m not mad. But I don’t know how to help you when you shut down and shut me out."

I moved my hands, wiping some of his tears away with my thumbs as I moved up to look at him. He was still so twisted up about something, and I knew that he needed to get whatever it was out. But there was a quiet dignity my little brother was trying to hold onto in spite of the fact that he felt no dignity after everything that life had done to him.

"Pony, please just talk to me. I’m not mad."

"I didn’t wanna let you down!" He managed to get out before he broke down again and sobbed.

I looked over at Sodapop as he gave me a sad, but knowing smile. I realized horrified, that my little brother had been beating himself up over the same things I’d been beating myself up over. He’d been doing it all because it was what I wanted. He didn’t want to disappoint me, even at the risk of being terrorized at school.

I squeezed my way in next to Ponyboy, shoving my arm carefully behind his neck without causing much more than a wince of discomfort from him. My other arm wrapped around his torso as I rested my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled.

"You’ve never once let me down, Pony. Not once. You did your best and it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure it out." I whispered, holding my brother closer when all he could do was cry that much harder.

"I can’t do it no more, Darry! I can’t go back there!" Pony’s sobbing continued and it was breaking my heart.

"Shhhh, Pony. It’s gonna be okay. I told ya Darry ain’t mad atcha, honey. It’s gonna be okay." Soda’s voice was calm and smooth as he ran his fingers through his brother’s hair.

"You don’t have to go back there, baby. We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise that we’ll figure this all out together—the three of us."

My fingers joined Soda’s, and we lay there silently trying to ease our baby brother. It wasn’t long when he had calmed down and his good arm moved up, and his hand moved back and forth across my chest. I looked down at him and held his gaze as my right hand moved to tug gently at the top of his t-shirt. Sure enough, there was a large lump I could see right where his collarbone had severed.

"Better than breaking your nose, I guess." I grinned lightly, winking at Pony before my hand moved from his shirt, and with ghost-like touches began to feel around his face. "You hurtin’ pretty bad?"

"It’s okay if I don’t move my arm." Pony frowned. He was about to shrug his shoulders, but quickly thought better of it.

"Well, Greg’s on his way, little buddy. He’ll fix you up good; make you right as rain. He’ll know what to do."

"I ain’t gonna have to go to the hospital, am I Darry? I don’t wanna go back there!" Pony looked terrified and looked like he was about to cry all over again. Soda and I wiggled in that much closer to him.

"It’s gonna be okay, little buddy. Let’s just take this one step at a time, and we’ll figure everything out together. We’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I’d barely made it through the front door when the phone started ringing off the hook. It was a Saturday and nobody was around. I’d just gotten off work, Sodapop was still at work, and Ponyboy was most likely out with Johnny or Two-Bit, or maybe even Dally. I was actually a little relieved to find I’d have a few rare moments to myself without being nagged to death or having someone bark orders at me. That is until the phone wouldn’t quit ringing.

My tool belt hit the floor alongside where I’d kicked my boots off and I exhaustedly made my way into the living room to answer the phone. At first I debated letting it ring; it’d been a long day and I just wasn’t up to talking with anyone. I figured I could hide from the annoying shrill if I spent a good chunk of time hiding out and cleaning up in the shower, but then thought better of it. The way my luck was running, it’d wind up being Ponyboy or Sodapop and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something bad were to happen to either of my brothers.

"Yeah?"

"Darrel? That you?" The voice was familiar, but still sounded different.

"Yeah. Dally?"

"Yeah, man. You got time for a favour?"

"Depends what kind of favour you’re asking for. What’s goin’ on, Dal?"

I wasn’t stupid. Offering up a favour to Dallas Winston was often like opening Pandora’s Box. But Dallas knew the precarious situation I’d landed myself in after my folks had passed, and I trusted he wouldn’t risk that when it came to his extra curricular activities and the trouble it sometimes landed him in.

"I busted my arm up, Darry. Think you can gimme a hand?" I could hear the strain in Dally’s voice, most likely from the pain he was in.

"I can’t afford any trouble, Dally. If you got tangled up with…"

"Nah, Darry. It ain’t nothin’ like that, man. Got tied up on a bull and got thrown. Can you help me out?"

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. He was always getting roughed up either in fights or in rodeos. "Where ya at?"

"I’m over a Buck’s."

"Of course you are," my voice dripped with disdain.

To say that I disliked Buck Merrill would be the understatement of a lifetime. I fucking hated Buck Merrill; he gave me the creeps. He was into all sorts of shit, and the kind of trouble I not only couldn’t _afford_ to be caught near, but didn’t _want_ to be caught near. Dally had spent a good chunk of his childhood on the streets of New York, and could handle just about anything thrown his way, so Buck wasn’t a problem to him. I on the other hand was struggling to keep my brothers from being taken away by the State, so being in the vicinity of Buck’s was a risk I didn’t much care for.

"Be outside. I’m leaving now."

It was a short drive to the outskirts and without disappointing me, Dally was standing there nursing on a cigarette while leaning a little too heavily against the worn siding of Buck’s establishment. He was holding onto his one arm carefully between flicking the ashes from his cancer stick onto the gravel beneath his feet. I opted to stay in the truck, but leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door for Dally. Even though I wasn’t remotely fond of Dally’s rodeo partner, it didn’t mean that I wasn’t fond of Dally. He was rough, but I knew he cared and helped me keep an eye out for my brothers now that my parents were gone and I was too busy to do it myself full time.

"You need a hospital?" I looked over at him once he’d slammed the door shut. His colour was off and he was breathing funny.

"Fuck that shit!" He grimaced while squeezing his eyes shut tight. "Your place; can I lay over for a while?"

"You know you don’t have to ask that." I frowned as I pulled the truck out and started for home.

He immediately headed for the couch as soon as we entered the house. I was tired and couldn’t seem to stop my eyes from rolling, but decided to skip out on lecturing Dally for not even bothering to take his boots off. I frowned as I removed my own footwear before heading to the bathroom to fetch my first aid kit.

"Let’s see." I nodded in his direction when I made it back into the living room.

Dally’s eyes opened to the sound of my voice, and I wound up crouching beside the couch so I could help him sit up. I could see that he was in a lot of pain while he tried to shrug out of his jean jacket, but I ignored it like I knew he wanted me to. He was a product of the streets which meant pain was a luxury he couldn’t afford to have or to show.

We managed to remove his jacket, but he’d fallen back against the pillows on the sofa before I could get him out of his shirt. Dally was rough even though I knew I could beat him in a fight, but his temper was flaring and I wasn’t crazy enough to poke this grizzly bear. I grabbed his t-shirt by the bottom hem and tore it down the middle, noticing the large bump over his left collar bone where it had been broken.

"Is it bad, man? Can ya tell?" He asked, his face still grimacing.

I nodded. "Looks broken, Dally. Not much I can do here, but don’t worry. You’ll probably live."

Dally laughed out loud, and I grinned while I got to my feet and headed for the kitchen. Under the sink was a bottle of whiskey my dad had kept around for times when he needed a " _hand_ _up_ ", as he used to say. He wasn’t big on drinking, and neither was I, but with only aspirin to offer a broken bone, I figured whiskey was the " _hand up_ " that Dallas Winston was going to need.

Dallas nodded at me appreciatively as I returned and offered him the bottle. I dug through my first aid kit and found the muslin cloth neatly folded at the bottom. Dallas helped himself to a couple of healthy gulps of the amber liquid while I busied myself, folding and positioning the sling to his arm in order to keep that arm and his collar bone immobile enough so it could heal.

"How long ‘til it heals?"...

…"It’ll take a few weeks, maybe a month for that bone to heal, but he should be okay. Just keep that arm immobile for a few days, then slowly get him to start moving it so it doesn’t stiffen up."

I broke from my reverie, and even though I’d only been half listening to him, I looked at Greg as though he were the village idiot. I should’ve been a better host given that he dropped his life to come to our rescue once again, but he was well versed in Pony’s recent medical history, and I just couldn’t help it. My stomach was tied in knots with worry as it was, and I was struggling to keep it together.

He cringed apologetically when he realized what he’d said and caught a glance at my expression. He knew as well as anyone that Pony could hardly move his arm as it was thanks to having his head bashed in and all the seizures that continued to plague him. My brother was relying solely on his right hand and arm for pretty much everything, while his left was still twisted up and useless.

"I’m sorry." Greg apologized quickly, taking the cotton swath of cloth that he’d dug out of his medical bag. "This should help keep his arm in place."

Greg sat down at the edge of the bed and folded the cloth to make a sling for Pony’s arm. When it was ready to place on my brother, Greg leaned into Pony with a reassuring smile.

"I’ll get you to sit up, Ponyboy and we’ll get you fixed."

Ponyboy looked at Greg, shaking his head back and forth adamantly before looking at me. Greg didn’t seem to notice my brother’s panic start to set in, but Sodapop like always, was at his brother’s side helping to keep him calm while helping to get him sitting upright in bed. Greg went ahead, moving to put the sling around my brother, but Pony’s right arm shot out and gave a weak shove to stop him.

"No," Pony shook his head and looked back up to me.

"What’s wrong, Pony? Let Greg put the sling on you." Sodapop tried to encourage our brother, but Pony’s head continued shaking from side to side.

"No. I want Darry to do it. Please?"

Greg immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Sodapop before turning to look at me. Without saying a word, he got up from the side of the bed, handed me the cloth for the sling, and stood aside along with Beth as I slowly sat down next to my brother. I wasn’t sure if I should worry, or feel a boost to my ego that my brother wanted me to fix him instead of an actual doctor.

"What’s wrong, Pony? Greg won’t hurt you." I spoke quietly, feeling somewhat awkward in front of our friend that dropped whatever it was he was doing to come to our rescue. Again.

"I got no shirt on." Pony looked embarrassed. Sodapop had managed to get Pony’s shirt over his head and off of his body so that Greg could get a better look at the break.

"It’s okay. We’ll get one on you once we figure the sling out, okay? You can borrow one of mine. It’ll be easier to get off and on." I offered, but Ponyboy still looked unsure and I didn’t think a thing about it until he whispered.

"I don’t want anyone to touch me. Don’t let anybody touch me again, ‘kay Darry?"

Pony’s whisper raked along his throat timidly, and I caught myself holding my breath. This was the first time I’d seen him outright not want somebody to get physically close to him, and I knew right away the reason why.

"Greg would never hurt you, Pony." Soda looked as worried as I imagined I looked right then.

"I know," Pony mumbled while avoiding Soda’s gaze. I could sense his vulnerability as the four of us watched him, half dressed and dependant on us. "It just don’t hurt as bad when Darry does it."

"You’re okay if I go ahead?" Pony’s comfort was my priority right then as I realized how exposed he felt. He nodded his assent.

I nodded back before giving Sodapop a quick glance. I’d wondered for a while when things would come to a head, and Ponyboy would start showing the signs of what he’d gone through while he was living with Martin Campbell. I wasn’t quite prepared for him pushing the man that’d saved us away, and I suddenly couldn’t help but feel bad for Greg.

"Can Greg give me a hand? It’s been awhile since I’ve done this, little buddy." I thought back to that afternoon with Dallas, suddenly feeling insecure.

Ponyboy shook his head while staring at his lap. "Soda," was all he said.

I looked at Greg apologetically, but he dismissed my reaction with a genuine smile and the shake of his head. I nodded my understanding, that this was okay. This was Pony’s body, and Greg understood my brother enough to know it was important to let Ponyboy dictate who and who wasn’t allowed contact with him.

I managed to slide the cloth between Pony’s torso and arm without causing much pain to him. I brought the other side around the outside of his arm, and waited as Sodapop handled both ends at the back of Ponyboy’s neck. While he tied the ends together, I gently adjusted Pony’s elbow in the sling. It looked like it was in a good position, but this was broken bones we were talking about, and I needed a professional opinion.

"Is it alright if Greg checks it?" I asked Pony gently as I let my hand rest on his head, letting my thumb rub back and forth.

He reluctantly nodded, and I quickly got up so that Greg could move in and get a closer look. Greg did his best to inspect Pony’s arm without so much as a whisper of a touch before looking back at me and nodding his approval. Ponyboy looked away sadly.

"I’m sorry," he whispered to Greg. Greg’s head spun back towards my brother, and he looked on at him with an awed expression.

"Ponyboy, you will never have to apologize to me for that, okay?"

Pony slowly looked up at Greg and gave him a curious look.

"Don’t ever apologize for that. I understand." Was all Greg said before slowly standing up, and heading for the door.

I looked at both of my brothers and gave an encouraging wink, before quickly looking over at Beth who’d been standing quietly next to the closet, leaning heavily against the wall while looking as though she were lost in her own thoughts. I held out my hand for her, and watched as she snapped out of whatever had her so preoccupied. She quickly picked up her bag that was left on the floor along with her coat, and gave me her hand.

"He’s okay," I whispered to her, feeling like I needed to reassure her about my own brother.

This was affecting her, and the only reason I could come up with was that she truly, genuinely cared about Pony. It was just in her nature to care, and I fell a little bit more for her. She gave me a small smile and nod, and I smiled back. I looked over at Sodapop as he watched over Pony who was finally overcome with fatigue, and started nodding off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	18. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I could sense that someone was moving around the house without even being fully aware of it. My eyes slowly opened and I lay motionless and quiet while I listened. The house sounded empty with nothing but the occasional creak and moan from it settling, although my gut and experience told me otherwise. That voice that spoke to me often, always urging me to check the bedroom at the end of the hall; it was suddenly nattering at me and I couldn't shut it off.

The evening had Sodapop and Pony drifting off to sleep together in their own space, while Greg had left for home promising he'd stop by in the morning to check on things. Nobody had even eaten supper; we were completely spent. I led Beth to my bedroom and we didn't even make it under the covers. We just laid together while still in our clothes; me curled around her from behind. She'd barely spoken a word to me after Pony had been patched up, and something in me told me not to let her be alone. Sure enough, she gave in; her past colliding with my present in a surge of emotions. She let go and cried herself to sleep while I held her to me. I didn’t say anything, I just let her cry until I’d finally joined her in quiet slumber.

I gently pulled my arm out from beneath Beth's head, and unraveled myself from her while I rolled and moved off of my bed. I glanced at the clock while I rubbed at my eyes lazily. It was around midnight, and my gut gave a pull. I wasn't sure if I was still nauseous or now hungry; maybe a bit of both as I folded the comforter over backwards and covered Beth before quietly heading for that bedroom down the hall.

The door was open when I stuck my head in. I noticed the full moon through the window as it cast its light onto the bed and illuminated the back of Sodapop's head as he lay on his stomach with his arms and legs stretched out. His face was planted in Ponyboy's pillow, and it was clear that he was alone. I couldn't help the pang of worry that went through me as I turned from the room in search for my youngest brother.

I could hear his laboured breathing as I edged closer to the living room. I could tell that Ponyboy was in a lot of discomfort from the way his breaths hissed between clenched teeth. Even before I turned the corner and watched him pace back and forth, I knew he was having a hard time.

"Pony?"

He turned around at the sound of my whisper, and the amount of pain he was in was written clearly across his face. It wasn't necessary to ask what the problem was. My brother was clutching his left elbow in a white knuckled grip. Even in the dark, I could see that his face was flushed and strained, and in true Ponyboy fashion he was holding it all together by a single thread that had stretched itself to the maximum.

"Pony, why the hell didn't you wake me?"

I was suddenly standing over him, hands moving on their own accord trying to offer some sort of relief and comfort while they searched for other possible ailments. It was a skill I was still developing while having watched Sodapop master it for years.

Pony grunted while holding his breath; his whole body tense from the obvious suffering his broken collar bone was putting him through. I suddenly felt regret for not joining Steve and Sodapop earlier in the schoolyard. I had a few of my own definitions of pain I would've gladly taught that soc whom decided that harassing my brother was a good idea.

"Pony," I pushed a little more when he wouldn't answer me and just shook his head wordlessly.

"Hurts, Darry." Pony finally managed to grunt through clenched teeth.

"Why is your brother asleep? Why didn't you wake me up? How long have you been pacing the floor like this?"

All of my questions were relevant, but as usual they flew out of my mouth and swiftly attacked my brother before I could think about what I was saying and how I was saying it. I made a face when I realized what I'd done, and hoped that Ponyboy could tell that I was sorry for my usual abruptness.

"Soda's asleep. And you're…you…and...you and Beth…"

His voice dropped off as he looked awkwardly towards the hall where my bedroom was. He shook his head, holding his breath again while he turned away and proceeded to resume his slow pacing of the living room floor.

"Pony,"

I followed my brother and stood behind him. I heard another grunt from him before he inhaled sharply, and I knew that thread had snapped when I turned him around slowly, and his body tumbled into me completely exhausted. 

"Okay, Pony. It's okay."

I eased the both of us down slowly until we were sitting on the floor. I quickly fussed and fiddled around with Pony's sling to make sure it was on right and was still helping to support that arm of his, but it just seemed to set him off. He clutched at my shirt with a vice-like grip as his head flopped against my shoulder. His moan was guttural, and I thought back to Dally all of that time ago, and how much pain his broken collar bone had left him in.

"Let's get you layin' down on the couch." I suggested, but Pony frantically shook his head.

"No! Worse laying down!"

"Okay, alright." I eased off, not wanting to stress him more than he already was.

My brother needed something to help with the pain, or something to at least knock him out until I could get to the drug store in the morning. All I had to offer was aspirin, and it was clear that he needed something stronger.

“Here, kiddo. I got an idea, but mum’s the word, okay?”

Pony looked at me confused as I gently pried his hand from my shirt, and started to ease myself from the floor. Pony watched as I made my way to the kitchen and to the cupboard beneath the sink. I found the bottle of whiskey and took a healthy drink for myself, hissing as the drink warmed my throat as it made its way down to my stomach. I took a deep breath and noticed that my hand was unsteady before half filling the glass for Ponyboy. I took it and the bottle with me when I headed back for the living room.

He looked at me like I'd half lost my mind when I sat back down and placed the glass and the bottle on the coffee table before easing back down to the floor. My legs were splayed open, and I wiggled my finger to indicate that I wanted him to sit in the nook I'd made for him. Pony grimaced a bit, but was able to shuffle the short distance to be next to me. My right arm lightly draped around him while my left hand reached out for the glass and held it up to him.

"I don't think you're gonna like this, kiddo. Drink it fast. It'll help you out until I get get you some decent pain killers." I didn't bother to offer him any aspirin.

Ponyboy tentatively let go of his left arm and reached out to take the drink from me. He stared at it for awhile before turning his head back to look at me. He didn't think I was serious, I could tell. I gave him a nod.

"It'll burn goin' down, but it'll numb the pain a little, okay?"

"You sure, Darry?" Pony almost looked afraid, and I leaned in and kissed the back of his head.

"Nope, but it's all I got and I can't stand seeing you in this much pain, so drink up."

Pony stared at the amber liquid again, probably in shock that I was suggesting this as an antidote. My little brother had only one other experience with alcohol when Two-Bit had let him drink his beer. Pony had a bit too much and was sick as a dog after. Now we were here, and now _I_ was the one feeding him booze.

"Don't stop to taste it; just knock it back." I instructed after I'd pushed aside the memory of Two-Bit and my brother.

Pony hesitated for a minute, and then brought the drink to his lips. For a minute I thought he wasn't going to listen to my advice, but then he slowly tipped his head back, and drank the whiskey in a couple of gulps.

"Ugh!" He groaned miserably before hissing. I quickly grabbed for the glass and the bottle, and poured another.

"One more." I urged my brother to take the glass from me as I held it up in front of him again.

He was apprehensive, but didn't argue. Slowly and cautiously, he drank the whiskey down just as I'd told him to with the first shot. I could visualize the path the liquor had taken with every reaction Pony was having, to his sharp intake of breath, all the way to the choking cough. I slid backwards until my back met with the couch, and pulled gently on my brother to help him move with me. He didn't say anything; just leaned up against me, eventually relaxing while I ran a hand through his unkempt hair, taking the bottle and having another shot for myself, straight from the source.

"How ya feel?" I asked after it'd been silent for a few solid minutes.

"Warm. Kinda weird." Pony yawned and rubbed his face.

"Think you can get up for a sec? Let's sit on the couch; this position is killing my back."

Pony leaned forward so I could maneuver myself out of the spot I'd been sitting in. Once I was up, I offered my hand to him, and helped him as he slowly struggled to get to his feet. I quickly readjusted the sling so his arm was more supported, and then helped him sit down on the sofa. When he looked comfortable, I sat beside him. It wasn't even a minute later when his head rested against my shoulder.

I carefully reached up behind me and pulled down that old ugly afghan blanket mom had knitted, and covered our legs. I was careful not to bump or jar him or his arm in anyway; he seemed the most relaxed he had been since Soda and I had brought him back from school. By the time I wrapped my arm around my brother, he was out like a light.

* * *

"Darry, I'm scared."

I looked to my left before turning my head at the scene in front of us, and nodded.

"I know, little buddy. I am too. I am too." I paused, then came up with an idea. "Why don't you go in there; see how he's doin'. Maybe it's not as bad as we think."

He quickly shook his head, squashing any idea of mine as a good one. "No way. Once he gets started…"

"What are you guys whispering about?"

I quickly looked at my brother and then at Greg as he crouched down behind us. "You should get outta here while you can."

"No," my brother shook his head. "No…no I don't think that's a good idea. We might need a doctor later."

I nodded. "Good thinkin’, kiddo.”

"Hey, assholes, I can hear everything you're saying." Sodapop sing-songed, rolling his eyes at Ponyboy and I while he danced around the kitchen, getting brunch ready for the three of us plus our guests.

I looked over at Ponyboy and winked at him playfully, getting a grin out of him.

"He can't possibly be that bad." Beth suddenly appeared behind Soda, her hands holding a stack of dishes to set the table.

"If you ever wanted to know what a rainbow tasted like, you're about to find out." Ponyboy frowned before heading into the kitchen with Greg and myself following with a chuckle.

"Ha ha, very funny," Soda rolled his eyes again as he opened the oven door. "Keep it up and you won't get seconds."

"My luck's changing for the better everyday." Ponyboy mumbled with a smirk, as we all seated ourselves at the table.

I stifled a laugh, relief easing my tension with the proof that my youngest brother was indeed okay. In fact, I wasn't even sure where this sudden burst of playfulness was coming from, and wondered if he'd snuck another drink from the bottle of whiskey I'd pulled out from under the kitchen sink the night before. All I knew right then was everything was okay.

Sodapop knelt beside our brother, leaning his forehead gently on Ponyboy's good shoulder before looking at him.

"Good thing ya didn't break your funny bone, Ponyboy. It'd be pretty quiet in here."

Sodapop and Pony shared a moment like the rest of us didn't even exist just then. Pony leaned his head down, his forehead pressing against Soda's before Soda mouthed something, and they both grinned at each other before Sodapop stood up.

"You okay, kiddo?" Soda patted his brother's head like he were a puppy.

Pony nodded, still smiling at his brother. "Hurts still. I'm okay though. Darry let me drink dad's booze."

”So much for _mum’s the word_.” I frowned at Ponyboy, and he brought his hand up to his mouth when he realized the secret he spoiled.

I got a look from Soda, Beth, and Greg that almost made me feel like a kid that got his hand stuck in the cookie jar. I gave them all a pointed look back, warning them to keep their judgements to themselves. It was the only relief that I was able to give my brother, and I was just content with the fact that it actually worked and I was able to give him the help he needed. Fortunately, Greg returned in the morning with some stronger medicine to get Ponyboy through the next week when his arm would hurt the worst.

"I'm okay." Pony repeated, and Soda nodded before ruffling Pony's hair and turning back to the stove.

"What if he needs somethin' stronger than them pills you brought?" Soda looked at his brother worriedly before looking up at Greg, and then to me.

"Codeine should be more than enough, Soda." Greg reassured, but I could tell that Soda was still worried about Ponyboy.

"It's gonna be okay, Pepsi. Let's have something to eat, and if he survives your cooking, he'll survive anything." I grinned at Soda, and he just rolled his eyes.

”Hilarious,” he commented before sticking his tongue out at me.

Beth and Greg gave each other a funny look. They may have been privy to the rumours, but they really had no idea that they were about to get the experience of their lives. It wasn't until Sodapop placed the platter of green pancakes on the table that Beth broke into a fit of laughter, and Greg reached out tentatively with a fork to grab a pancake, and inspected it like it came out of a test tube. Soda gave everyone a confused look.

”What?” He shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton. Another big thank you to those still reading, as well as giving kudos!


	19. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It's no surprise that a man like me hates change. It's daunting and uncomfortable, and ironic given the fact that my life has been consumed with it. By the time I hit twenty, my plans to go to college had been thwarted by the passing of both of my parents, and suddenly I felt like nothing in my life was familiar. I was a fish out of water, no longer able to go through the usual motions of a twenty year old in the prime of his life, but instead a twenty year old without a clue who was suddenly in charge of two teenaged boys. Instead of paving my own path and finding my own way in life, I was thrust into responsibilities I never even knew; working two jobs to keep what was left of our family together, keeping everyone fed and clothed, and being the one thing my younger brothers could depend on no matter what happened. I was learning a new life that I hadn't planned on or expected, with none of it coming easy to me.

I managed to get through it, thanks to the support of my brothers, namely Sodapop, who seemed to be able to pick himself up and be a real help along with our close knit of friends. When Dallas and Johnny passed away along with the troubles Ponyboy found himself in, I was faced with more changes. Soon my brother was taken away, almost killed, and returned back to me an entirely different person. It was more change with more challenges, but through all of the damages; the tears and the pain, there was a new niche where the two of us finally understood each other. There would be no more fighting Pony for being a normal teenager. Most days Ponyboy was a child again which crushed me when I let it. But there was something else there in the midst of his disabilities which kept me in awe. He retained a sense of innocence even though Campbell had tried everything in his power to brutally tear it away from him. Ponyboy was a contradiction; fragile and sensitive, with a strength I'd never known in anyone before. He was a survivor in every way possible.

Life had once again settled into regiments and routines although I knew more changes with Pony would happen. I realized it would just be a matter of time, but again I found myself caught off guard when I stumbled to the bathroom early on a Saturday to find both of my brothers at the bathroom sink, shaving cream slathered on their faces, laughing and smirking, dancing around as Sodapop proceeded to try and teach Ponyboy the ropes of shaving.

They didn't even acknowledge me as I made my way into the bathroom and to the toilet. I watched them quietly while I emptied my bladder; grinning and rolling my eyes as Sodapop was demonstrating the ins and outs of grooming. As with everything Soda did, it lacked the seriousness and safety a chore that involved a sharp object needed. Sodapop was spinning around, preening and getting Ponyboy all excited and in a fit of giggles. I flushed the toilet and quickly grabbed my youngest brother's hand just as he was about to emulate his idol, and take that first swipe of his face with Soda's razor.

"Easy, little buddy." My voice was steady but gentle when I realized I'd spooked Pony after grabbing at his wrist. I looked at Sodapop through the reflection in the mirror. "Whadaya think you're doin'?"

"Teachin' him to shave, Darry. He up and decided to finally get a beard." Soda's megawatt smile would let the whole world know how proud he was of his little brother.

"Looks like you're teachin' him how to act like a nut. Why don't you settle down; he's gonna wind up cuttin' his throat and killin' himself." I frowned.

"Aww c'mon, Darry. Lighten up! Our baby brother's becomin' a man!"

It was clear that Sodapop was excited with the prospect of Ponyboy maturing, but it only scared the hell out of me. Part of it was because of that well known fact that I hated change. It seemed like when I'd just gotten used to things, someone or something would pull the rug out from underneath me, and I'd have to get used to something new all over again. Another part was the fact that although Ponyboy was physically a fifteen year old, emotionally he'd been run over by a steamroller and I wasn't sure how he was going to handle the changes his body was going through. And of course there was that part deep down that was a little wistful; the part where it felt that sometimes Pony was mine, and he was growing, and time was slipping through my fingers. I wondered if our parents had felt this way before they left us.

"Can we celebrate the coming of manhood without the use of razor blades?" I cocked an eyebrow at Sodapop and grinned when he put the lid to the toilet seat down and practically threw himself on it; sitting down in a huff.

I turned back towards the mirror, a soft smile covering my lips when I looked at my youngest brother and opened the medicine chest to grab my shaving kit. Pony turned and watched me intently as I opened the leather case, grabbed my own razor, and changed out the used blade for a new one for him to use.

"C'mere," I motioned for Pony to move in front of me.

He looked nervous and unsure as he stood in front of me; the both of us looking at each other's reflection as we faced the mirror. I held my Gillette out for him to take; Pony's right hand reached out tentatively while he flashed me another look of uncertainty via the mirror. I gave him a wink while I wrapped my left arm around him, resting my hand as I very gently held the base of his throat. My right hand held onto his, and I gave a sigh.

"You ready?"

Pony looked so nervous, I couldn't help but smile at him. Sodapop was now sitting sideways, his head propped up as he rested an elbow on the side of the sink. He reached out with his other hand, and tugged on Pony's t-shirt. Pony finally nodded at me.

"Alright, kiddo. Until you get the hang of it, I want you to hold off on the dancing and cluckin' around like a chicken." I teased as I slowly brought Pony's hand and the razor up to his cheek. Ponyboy snickered at Soda, and got Sodapop's tongue sticking out in reply.

"Okay honey, I want you to pay attention. When you're over here, you're going with the growth. Don't go against it, 'kay?"

"Why not?" Pony asked.

"Razor burrrrnn!" Sodapop piped up and got Ponyboy snickering again.

"Really?" Pony looked at me, perhaps catching on to the fact that his brother was full of shit, even though Sodapop was right about this one thing.

"Irritates the skin." I nodded. "You wanna take it easy…" I stopped talking as his hand and mine led the first path down his face with the razor.

The room became quiet as Ponyboy concentrated on the task at hand. I felt like I was teaching him to ride a bike; my hand on his to gently guide the motions of the razor against his skin, until his hand looked steady enough that I knew it was safe for me to let go.

I watched on as I stood behind him, and felt a bit of regret. I could remember when I was the one at the sink with my father standing behind me; guiding me through this right of passage into manhood. Sodapop also had our father, and I suddenly realized how hard life had been for Pony even without the interference of Martin Campbell.

He was too young to have his parents ripped away from him. There were so many of life's lessons he had to learn without a mom and dad to teach him. I realized how lucky I'd been; I'd always known it, but this moment made me really realize just how lucky I was to have had my parents with me until I became an adult.

"Ya gotta rinse the blade, Pony."

Soda's voice broke me out of my thoughts. I focused on my baby brother's reflection in the mirror. His first time shaving, and I was the one to teach him. A strange pride came over me, and another smile crept over my face as I inspected Pony's work. It was a job well done.

"You missed a spot." I teased as I pointed to a spot next to Pony's ear."

"Where?" Pony turned his head to see in the mirror where I'd pointed.

"Right here." I was still pointing.

"Where? I don't see, Darry."

"Here." I smirked as I flicked his ear.

"Oww, Darry!" Pony whined, but I didn't flick him that hard.

I was still smiling when my arms snaked around him, and I leaned over to rest my chin on his shoulder, still looking at him through the mirror. I wondered if I'd done it; if I was doing a good job at raising him. I wondered if this would be a memory he'd look back on twenty years from now, and smile knowing we'd done it together.

"You okay, Darry?" Pony asked.

"Mmmhmm," I nodded while I let the back of my hand stroke his cheek. "You done good; smooth as a baby's bottom."

Pony gave me an odd look while Sodapop burst out laughing. I stood up straight, letting go of my brother while I cleaned up my razor and the sink as Soda proceeded to torture his little brother by calling him "baby butt cheek".

I could hear their banter all the way into their room as I made a mental note to pick up a case for Ponyboy to have with his own shaving gear. They were both laughing when I shut the door, stripped out of my underwear, and hopped into the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


	20. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

The rail guard came down, and like always I was drowning in a sea of thoughts and worries. It had been another long day at work, this time due to the fact that we were down two of our best guys. Murphy and Garcia had gotten their notice. They'd both been drafted.

Outside of my own world of change and challenges was a war that was going on in a jungle a world away. I'd seen the headlines; boys and men being returned to their families in wooden boxes along with a flag; as if that flag could somehow erase the loss. I'd managed to ignore it all until now. Now it was real; it was something I could put a name to, something tangible that I could touch. It was something I could wonder about. Something I could worry about. The draft had started and left me wondering—what if it happens to me?

Murphy and Garcia weren't what I would call good friends, but we'd spent many an hour on the rooftops of Tulsa getting to know one another. They were good, hard working men, not much older than I was, who were in the same boat as me. They were just trying to make a living to support their families before the government ripped them away to fight in a war that made no sense. The news was that the death toll was rising, and the more soldiers that were killed over in the jungles of Vietnam, meant that more soldiers were needed to replenish lost numbers. The government was now picking guys off the street to send them on over to boot camps, and then across the world to either kill or be killed. I cold only hope that Murphy and Garcia would come back in one piece.

I wondered if fate would rear its cruel head my way once more and have Uncle Sam pull my own name in that draft. Surely God knew as well as I did, that my family couldn't take another hit. We'd done our part in this journey called life; we'd lost our fair share and it was somebody else's turn. The thought startled me; I hadn't realized I'd turned that bitter, but I was still adamant that the Curtis family had made their share of sacrifices. The belief didn't stop me from still feeling a need to prepare, because if life had taught me one thing, it was that it definitely wasn't fair.

I'd started a nest egg for my brothers. It wasn't much, but I'd been saving as much as I could back when I'd been hell bent on finding Campbell and finishing him off. I'd figured my destiny would be played out behind bars where my brothers would need all the help they could get. Now I was wondering if life would provide me with a different kind of life sentence; one I wouldn't have a choice in walking away from.

The horn from the car behind me tore me from my thoughts and I realized the train had passed. I rolled my window down and waved my hand to the driver in thanks, and carefully made my way home.

I could feel my mood shift and my own skin felt heavy as the weight of the world stepped upon my shoulders and decided to take a pit stop and stay there. In my head I knew there was no sense in worrying about things I had no control over. I knew that it wasn't logical or sensible to let myself be bogged down with all the what-ifs, but the bigger picture of my life consisted of my two brothers, and whatever happened to one of us, happened to the other two. If I got sent away, I'd have to make sure they'd be okay without me.

I could barely register my surroundings as my thoughts seemed to consume me. It wasn't until I felt something hit the back of my head that I realized I was standing in the kitchen staring at my lunchbox that I'd set on the counter beside the stove. I turned to find both Ponyboy and Sodapop at the kitchen table. Books were open and strewn about, looking as though the two of them were studying. I looked down and saw the eraser that was chucked at me.

"Earth to Darry," Soda smirked and had Pony smiling crookedly after him.

"Hi," I smiled tiredly as I bent over to retrieve the eraser, and placed it on the table next to Pony’s books before I sat down heavily in my chair. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Homework." Ponyboy frowned before his nose was back in his book. I looked at Soda confused.

"Helpin' him with history. This home schoolin' was a good idea. Ya hungry, Darry? It's late. Was wonderin' if you were even gonna make it back." Soda got up from the table to turn on the oven.

"Yeah, long day. Sorry, little buddy. I guess I shoulda called." I frowned as I fought to push back the whole Murphy and Garcia drama from my mind.

"It's okay. I'll heat up supper for you if you wanna get cleaned up?"

"Yes, mother." I answered dryly, but grinned when both of my brothers snorted their amusement. Soda and I were starting to sound like an old married couple.

"History, huh?" I found myself looking on at Ponyboy as he was reading his text book. I turned back to Sodapop. "Tell me Mr. Universe, what in the hell do _you_ know about history?"

Sodapop shrugged. "It's all in the past."

I rolled my eyes as Soda and Pony began chuckling again, and I wondered what the hell was going on. Sodapop was the last person I'd ever expect to see helping _anyone_ with school work. He'd always hated school.

"Sounds like you've got it covered then." I frowned sarcastically, but Soda just shrugged me off and before my unbelieving eyes, he sat back down at the table and started working with his brother and his studies.

”I’ll get your supper warmed up for ya. Go wash up; ya stink!” Soda grinned.

After supper I found myself staring off as my mind wandered back to the war, and I started worrying about the draft again. I figured I could try and hunker down a bit more to save extra money to put aside for the boys, on the chance my name actually did get picked. I knew that Ponyboy would be in the best of hands if anything ever happened to me, and I knew that Soda was as well, because they'd always have each other. There was a lot of comfort in that thought even though the whole idea of going off to war was gnawing at my insides.

"Y'alright?" Soda broke me out of my thoughts when he plunked down beside me on the sofa and slapped my leg.

"Mhmmm." I nodded.

"Somethin' bad happen today? You're awful quiet tonight."

I took a deep breath to speak, but then just let it out in one prolonged sigh before shaking my head. Looking back, I wondered if I should've told my brother what was on my mind; maybe it would've made a difference somehow, but I decided not to. I didn't want him worrying about one more thing when he was already worrying about Ponyboy. So I let it go along with the chance to talk about the war in Vietnam, and how we were going to deal with it if I was forced to go.

"You might get Pony askin' weird questions." Soda commented off-handedly as he focused on the television.

"Whadaya mean? What sort of weird questions?" I asked as I stared at the television.

"Sex. Stuff like that." Soda shrugged and I suddenly felt very alert.

“Awe, man! Why?" I cringed.

"Jeeze Louise, Darry!" Soda started laughing at me before throwing an arm around my shoulder and he patted my head in mock sympathy. "It happened."

"What happened?" I pulled away from Soda alarmed, unsure and uncomfortable about where this conversation was headed. "Is he okay? What happened?"

" _It_ happened."

I watched as Sodapop pointed to his crotch with his index finger. The finger was pointing down for a moment before swinging upwards in an erect position, and I clenched my eyes before covering my face in my hands.

"Ughhh," I groaned while Sodapop chuckled at my expense. Our baby brother was now officially a young man. “Why me? I thought sex was _your_ area of expertise?”

”It is,” Soda commented smugly before continuing. “We talk about everything, but for some reason he wants your take on things too. He wants to know he...”

Sodapop was suddenly quiet and I brought my hands down from my face when I felt him nudge me. Ponyboy entered the room cautiously, and was looking at us hesitantly. He didn't say anything, just slowly limped to the couch and slipped in between Soda and I.

"How ya doin' kiddo? You okay?" Soda scooted over so Pony would have more room.

It was awkward, but it posed a significant distraction from my looming thoughts of war and having to leave my brothers. I watched Pony closely, and could sense that he was bothered by the changes that were happening to him. I reached up and smoothed his hair gently with my hand.

"You okay, little buddy? Wanna talk?” I gave Soda a look.

He frowned while giving a small shrug, then simply slumped over sideways, laying his head down in my lap. I looked over at Sodapop, and his face showed the same concern that I felt for our brother. I played with Pony's hair a bit while Soda bent down to help Pony stretch his legs out over his lap.

"Is something wrong with me?" Pony asked the question he always seemed to ask when he was trying to put together the pieces of who he used to be with who he was now.

"How do you mean, Pony?" I asked, trying to keep him talking.

We couldn't afford to have him shut down. After everything that'd happened to him, I wanted Pony to be able to tell us anything, no matter how painful or awkward it was for us to hear and for him to say. My brother wasn't going to slip through the cracks. Through some miracle, he made it through everything that had happened to him. There was no way in hell I was going to lose him now.

"I…" Pony started, but then stopped suddenly to take a deep breath. "It was...I mean...am I a pervert?”

“Pony, c’mon.” Soda frowned.

”But...I...it...I...” Pony struggled to say what he wanted; his hand rubbing his scarlet cheek nervously.

”It’s a hard-on, Pony. It’s okay; we all get ‘em.” Soda blurted out loud, only proving to make our brother more embarrassed.”

”It’s gross! It’s wrong!”

”Pony, it’s nature. It’s okay, little buddy.There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I let my hand rest firmly on Pony’s head in order to ground him.

“But he...I...he made me...I mean...I did it with a guy. Does that make me sick?"

"No, Pony…" Soda choked, but I cut him off.

"That wasn't sex, Ponyboy." My voice was steady.

The room was silent for a moment except for the volume of the television on low. Pony slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at me pleadingly. We were going to have the talk, and suddenly I wasn't sure what to say to him. I knew this day would come. The conversation was going to prove uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but with Pony’s rape—there was no way that I cold be prepared.

"What happened to you," I shook my head while I let the back of my fingers trail gently across Pony's cheek. "It ain't the same thing, kiddo. You dig?"

Ponyboy didn't understand, I could tell the way he was looking at me. How could you physically have been forced to do the act, and at the same time not be doing it? My brother had no idea how wonderful it was to share that kind of closeness with another individual. His first experience was ripped from him by the hands of a sadistic animal. I thought of Beth right then, and wanted so much for my brother to find that sort of connection with someone to help him through.

"But we…"

"There was no ' _we_ ' Ponyboy. There was him. He forced you to do those things with him, Pony! Goddammit, he almost killed you!"

"Alright, okay Darry. Let's take it easy." Sodapop's soft voice brought me back. I hadn't realized I was getting worked up.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly before taking a deep breath. "I'm not mad at _you_ , Pony.”

I felt the need to reiterate that all of my anger and rage over what had happened to my brother, was not his fault. My brother was still blaming himself, still believing the lies that were fed to him during those two torturous months. That he asked for it. That it was his fault.

"It's not your fault, Pony. What happened isn't your fault. I hope that one day you'll believe that and know that."

Pony was quiet for awhile as he stayed stretched out across his brother and I. I could see the confusion on his face as he was thinking things out for himself. Sodapop was watching him carefully while rubbing his feet.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Pony?" Soda's soft voice cut through the silence.

"Is it scary? Sex, I mean.”

"Sometimes," Soda smiled. "But not for the same reasons you're thinkin'. Sometimes you get scared you’re doin' the wrong thing and worry about messin' everything up!"

"Sodapop Curtis," I started, but then just started laughing alongside my brother. I couldn't believe we were actually having this discussion.

"I'm scared," Pony whispered, effectively sobering his brother and I.

"Nothin' to be afraid of, kiddo. Just follow your heart." Sodapop smiled.

"How do you know when it's your heart?"

I smiled at the innocence in my brother's question and ran my hand in his hair. I looked over to Soda and he gave me a wink and a nod. I knew the two of them had had their share of talks; they talked about everything. They were the keepers of each other's secrets; their bond went deeper than blood and DNA. Now it was my turn to share my secrets, something that was out of my comfort zone but I knew my little brother was looking to me for his answers. I was suddenly a part of their pact.

"It's a feeling, Pony. Your heart beats a little faster and a little stronger. It's a feeling in your gut that tells you you're in love."

"You in love with Beth, Darry?" Ponyboy looked up at me.

"Yeah, baby. I'm in love with Beth." I smiled at the realization.

Ponyboy smiled at me before looking at Sodapop, who simply nodded. Pony was quiet again while he took the time he needed to think about what we were talking about, and all that was said. Soda continued to rub his brother's feet until Pony spoke again.

"You think anyone'll ever fall in love with me?"

"Awe, c'mon honey. Of course." Sodapop answered, but Pony was looking at me for my answer.

I looked at him long and hard while my hand held his face. "Anyone would be lucky to have you, little buddy. No matter who they are."


	21. Twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I was once told that the ocean has no memory. Maybe it's because there's no beginning to it, and it has no end. I didn't understand it at the time, and I figure that still holds true, but it was all that I could think about as I looked out at the water and felt the warm waves roll in and over my bare feet. I kept waiting for the memories to end as I stood there, but memories were all that I had left.

It was still so easy for me to get lost in the past; a past that I couldn't let go of. The sound of gulls calling, and water crashing onto the sand beneath my feet was bittersweet. There weren't many things I'd seen in my life that could take my breath away like looking out at the ocean. There was nothing that beautiful in Tulsa that I could remember; nothing as peaceful or calming. But with that calm came loneliness, and even as I felt my bride take my hand and bring it up to her lips to place a comforting kiss on my knuckles, the ache wouldn't subside. I wasn't the ocean. I tried again, but the memories came crashing over me like those waves onto the beach.

"I wish they were here to see this." My voice barely left my mouth and I wanted to take it back, but as usual there was no judgement from her.

"I know." She nodded before she curled her arm around me; looking out to where my gaze had landed, and together we watched the sun melt into the Pacific…

* * *

…"So we get the old guy to get us a bottle, but he says if we get caught he don't know us. He takes off and we're still in the parkin' lot; sittin' in the Buick with the windows down. I turn the headlights off to hide the fact we're all passin' the bottle around, ready to get shitfaced…"

It's well after nine o'clock at night and I'm finally home after working overtime roofing houses, plus picking up an extra shift at the lumbar yard. The boys are all together in the living room; an event that seems to be a rarity now that all but Ponyboy are adults and living the high life of working for peanuts and paying taxes.

My brothers are sitting on the couch together while Steve and Two-Bit are occupying the floor. There's a take-out pizza box open across the coffee table; the smell of cheese and pepperoni hitting my nostrils with an intensity that reminds me how hungry I am and how long I've gone without something to eat.

I've just walked through the door and from what I can tell Two-Bit literally _has_ the floor while he's on some story about _A_ _Night_ _in_ _the_ _Life_ _of_ _Two_ - _Bit_ _Mathews_. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning and nod to acknowledge the "hi's" as I quickly head for the kitchen after kicking my work boots and tool belt off. I dump my lunchbox on the counter, quickly and unceremoniously wash my hands knowing full well I have about a minute and a half to get my ass back in the living room before that pizza is long gone.

"We're havin' a good time; listenin' to the radio and emptyin' that bottle of Jack when Sticks spots a beat cop walkin' towards the lot. We all freak out, especially Dally since he just got out of jail, so I pull out of the parking lot and drive with the cop screaming and yellin' after us to stop."

"Uh oh," Soda grins as the story continues.

"So anyways, the cop's runnin' after us, waving his hands back and forth like an ape and I step on the gas when low and behold, another cop pulls out in his car, lights flashin' and sirens wailin'. I pull my car over and Dally and Sticks are cussin' at each other to hide the bottle. The cop comes up to the window and knows all of us by name and rap sheet and I'm figurin' I'm spending the night in a jail cell…"

I grin at the story as I grab a slice of pizza and sink into the couch beside my brothers. It was about old times; good times before all of our lives took a beating. I can picture the scene like it was a week ago even though it feels like Dally's been gone for decades. Once again I'm reminded of just how much has changed, but then feel thankful when I look at Two-Bit's animated face, and realize the important things in life will never change.

"What happened? What'd he say?" Pony's face is as animated as our resident story teller.

"Turns out the cop with the sirens pulled us over for drivin' with no headlights on. Before he sent us on our way the beat cop catches up to us. Turns out he was trying to stop us for the same thing."

"Are you kidding me? You're a lyin' sack of shit, Two-Bit. Why the fuck was he chasing you down?" Steve asked what we all wanted to know.

"Well, in all the excitement his flashlight slipped out of his hand and flew in the back window of my car. He just wanted it back."

I rub my eyes and shake my head while Two-Bit laughs like a hyena. The boys chuckle. This could only happen to Two-Bit Mathews.

"So ya didn't get hauled in?" It was a statement more than a question, but even Steve can't hide the fact that he's entertained by the story.

"No, but ya shoulda seen the look on Dally's face when he looked down to find the flashlight and saw that it landed beside the bottle of booze he was tryin' to hide."…

I wasn't up for much longer. Unfortunately I had years of experience on all of them on what it was like to grow up too fast. I was in for another long day ahead of me come morning, so after another slice of pizza, I was off to bed.

* * *

"Where the hell are you off to? It's your night to do the dishes." I look up from the paper and see Sodapop putting on his shoes.

"Yeah, Pony's gonna do 'em for me tonight. I'll pay him back tomorrow."

"You workin' again? Christ Soda, you work more 'n I do anymore." I grumble as I turn the page to the sports section, shaking my head.

I'm answered with silence, and when I look up again he's gone. At the time, I don't think anything about it, I just stick my nose back into my paper and read the latest sports highlights. The Orange Bowl is around the corner, and the Sooners look like they have a sure shot of getting in.

"Yo, Sodapop!"

The front door slams, and Steve is hollering for my brother like 1000 decibels is the only level he can communicate in. He nods to me in acknowledgement and I just roll my eyes at him, treating him like the pain-in-the-ass brother he's become.

"Didn't your mom tell you your face stays that way when you do that?" Steve snarls at me.

"Speakin' from experience?" I bite back as I get up from my chair and head to the boy's room to find out what Sodapop's up to.

As I head down the hallway I can sense something's off as I hear my brothers arguing while trying to keep their voices down at the same time. Ponyboy and Sodapop never fight, at least not seriously. On occasion Pony would get his nose out of joint if Sodapop got too busy to spend time with him, and there was the usual big brother-little brother teasing and bantering, but right away I could tell this was more.

"Please, Pony. Please don't be mad at me. I promise you next time, okay?"

I slowly ease the door open and Soda's pleading with his brother while Pony's stone-faced and looking out the window. Soda straightens up when he sees me enter the room, but Pony's angry and doesn't give any indication he's noticed me at all.

"What's goin' on, you two?" I ask while I watch the two of them tense up.

"Nothin'," Soda shakes his head as he looks back at Pony who's still staring out the window like nobody else is in the room.

"Pony?" I try. Ponyboy slowly turns his head from the window and looks at Sodapop before turning to face me. He shakes his head.

"I gotta go." Soda sighs as he turns and brushes passed me to meet Steve at the door.

I watch Pony, and note that he looks as miserable as Sodapop. He doesn't move, he just turns back to look outside the window. I'm not sure what's going on, but a sudden unease settles down over the house, and I know this is big. I quickly spin around to catch Soda before he leaves for the night.

"Hey,"

I see Sodapop is half-way out the front door with Steve in tow; his hand on Soda's shoulder in what looks to be comfort. Soda turns his head to look at me, and I'm reminded once again how eerie it is the way him and his brother resemble each other.

"Soda, what the hell's goin' on?"

Sodapop looks as though he's about to speak, when Steve pipes up instead.

"The kid's mad cuz we're goin' to the Dingo and he wanted to come."

"The Dingo sounds harmless enough." I comment, never taking my eyes off of my brother, whose expression is confirming what I already know. There's more going on.

"Yeah, well we're meeting girls there. Already told him we'd let him tag along next time." Steve squeezed Soda's shoulder and practically pushed him out the door. "Don't wait up for him.”


	22. Twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"You know the rules," I grumble as I nudge my little brother’s side. "No Stooges, Ponyboy."

I’ve been working my ass off for weeks, and was rewarded with the entire weekend to myself to spend as I wanted it. Naturally, as soon as I found out, I was on the horn to Beth to see if we could spend some of that time together.

It’s Friday night, and of course Soda’s left me with our brother again while he’s out doing whatever; working, dating, robbing banks for all I know since he doesn’t tell me anything unless it’s Ponyboy related. After a long work day, the three of us are on the sofa; Beth to my left whose holding my one hand, and Pony to my right whose holding the other while his head’s on my shoulder because he’s fallen asleep; something that’s become routine now.

"Don’t bug him, Darry. He looks comfortable." Beth smiles as she leans forward and looks over me to take a glance at Sleeping Beauty.

"Hhhmmpff," I grumble in response.

As much as I’m appreciating the closeness I now have with my youngest brother, tonight I’m wanting to get a lot closer to Beth especially now that she’s sitting beside me. Her perfume is driving me crazy almost as much as the way her sweater is showing off her curves, and I’m wanting to take her back to my bedroom but it’s seems as though my time will be split in two tonight.

"Later." I hear her voice.

She seems to catch the look on my face while I’m inwardly strangling my baby brother, and she laughs at me. I grin back at her, a little embarrassed that she knows what’s on my mind, but I’m too far gone by this point. Beth is the only girl for me, and I’m aware of what that means.

"Is that all you men think about?" Beth laughs at me, and I shrug at her in mock apology which just seems to make her laugh harder.

"I’ll try to keep my hands to myself." I grin again.

Most of the time I’m feeling like I’m forty, but there’s a part of me that realizes all too well that I’m only twenty-two. Unfortunately right now, that’s the part that seems to have more control tonight. It’s put me in an unfamiliar spot as I’m wedged between a brother whom I adore, and the woman I’m crazy in love with; the past and a probable future all wrapped up in one big complicated package.

I turn my head and force myself to concentrate on the television. _Let’s_ _Make a Deal_ is on and I’m sure the entire _deal_ is a set-up. If there’s one certainty in life that I’ve learned, it’s that nothing is for free. A frown pulls at my lips and I suddenly remember who I am again. One eye-roll later after realizing my other option for TV is _Gomer Pile_ , and the transformation is complete. That is until I feel Beth lean in and start to kiss my ear.

By the time her lips have moved from my ear, down my neck and across my chin to my mouth, I’m repeating _Darry Curtis_ over and over again in my head just so I remember my name. Things start progressing quickly, and I know there’s no turning back when I feel her hands at the waistband of my jeans, and the button and zipper are suddenly undone. She was everything I wanted and needed, but right then there was still a fifteen year old fast asleep on my shoulder.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," I spoke through laboured breaths as I reluctantly pushed Beth back while jerking my head away. "Is that all you girls think about?"

Beth stopped immediately before snickering as I threw her question back at her. She winked at me before looking over at Pony; reaching over slowly, and gently pushing a wisp of his hair back. She then looked back at me grinning like the Cheshire Cat before standing up and pulling that sweater over her head, offering me a look at what would be waiting for me in my bedroom before she walked out of the living room to make her way there.

I looked back to my right, and sighed while shaking my head at my poor little brother. He didn’t have a clue and there was definitely guilt mixed in with all of the other feelings that I had going on inside, but I did know that I could not and would not do anything that might make things awkward for Pony.

I slowly eased off the couch while supporting his head, slowly helping him to lay down. With little stirring from him, I felt a little relief and also pride. My brother’s a good kid, and is going to let his big brother have some time alone with his girlfriend. I reach up bringing down mom’s garish afghan, and pull it down to cover Pony before making my way to my bedroom and the woman waiting for me there.

It’s the first time we’ve made love in my bed, and between the moans and groans and words of adoration, there’s shouts and giggles and both of us shushing each other when we bother to notice things getting too loud. I don’t know how long it’s been, but exhaustion has finally struck us both, and we lie side-by-side gazing at each other in a love-induced haze. It’s been months now, and I haven’t told her those words that she deserves to hear. There’s always so much going on; too many distractions, but tonight she’s right there, and it’s just the two of us, and my mouth opens to tell her those three little words…

… "DARRY!"

Beth about jumps out of her skin as the house shakes from the front door slamming, and just like that, the moment is broken. I roll my eyes groaning while Beth bolts out of bed and scurries around my room grabbing for her clothes. I would’ve laughed at the sight; she looked so cute trying frantically to get dressed like my brothers didn’t already know the two of us have been sleeping together. Instead, I run my hands over my face a few times before shoving them into my hair. I’m irritated for the interruption on my life.

"DARRY! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Sodapop’s home and yelling. I slowly drag my ass from my bed and slide my jeans back over my legs before making my way to Beth as she struggles to fasten her bra. She looks up at me worriedly.

"I’m sorry." She whispers so quietly that I can’t hear.

I shake my head before running my hand through her hair and kiss her on the cheek. "Wait here. I’ll be right back."

I close the bedroom door behind me and notice that it looks as though every bloody light in the house is on. My eyes squint against the brightness as I make my way to the living room while zipping the front of my jeans. I can hear the chaos emanating from the living room through the thin wall and wonder what the hell’s wrong now.

"DARRY! What? Is he fucking sleeping? Ponyboy, go wake him up, okay?"

I roll my eyes at the sound of Soda’s panic, and finally saunter my way around the corner into the living room while still shielding my eyes from the light.

"Pony, never mind him. Where’s the fire, Soda?"

"Darry, gimme a hand!"

My hand drops from my eyes as I survey the scene in front of me. Ponyboy is scrambling to get off of the couch while Sodapop is dragging his bloodied best friend from behind to lay him down where Pony just was. Immediately, I have Steve’s feet, and I lift them so my brother and I can get him settled.

"What the hell happened?" I bark out at Sodapop.

I’ve seen Steve Randal get knocked around a few times but not like this. I’m not even sure he’s conscious, but it’s hard to tell from the swelling and bruising of his face. It’s not until he swears at us when we get him laying down, that I realize he hasn’t passed out.

"You get jumped?" I ask incredulously.

"His old man." Soda frowns, and I see something in his eyes that resembles sadness, but there’s also something else that I can’t quite put my finger on.

"Alright. Go grab the first aid kit, Soda." I sigh as I kneel down by the couch to look Steve over.

I’ve been doing this for who knows how long, but the days of rumbles and turf wars were past. My hands moved over Steve’s face as I tried to gauge if things were as bad as they seemed, when he yelped while trying to shift into a different position.

"What is it?" I asked him. He put his hand on the right side of his chest.

I tried to be as gentle as I could, but I knew it was no use when I pulled up on Steve’s shirt and saw the bruising.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" He bellowed, and I knew he had busted some ribs.

"It hurts bad, don’t it?"

I didn’t notice Ponyboy at all until he was crouched down on the floor by Steve’s head, holding mom’s blanket around himself. Soda had come back with the first aid kit, but was as transfixed as I was while we watched these two rivals come together.

"You would know, kid. Wouldn’t ya?" Steve grimaced as he looked on at my youngest brother through the swollen slits temporarily in place of his eyes.

It was hard to discern exactly what Steve was thinking right then, but I figured it had to do with the fact that Ponyboy knew more than any of us, what it was like to be beaten this badly. I felt my throat close as Steve’s hand reached out to Ponyboy. Pony stared at it for a second, maybe thinking about those things that I can’t even stand to think about to this day. He looked at Steve sadly as he nodded, and grabbed onto Steve’s hand to hold it and offer him comfort.

Soda reached over and rubbed Pony’s shoulder tenderly. I imagine this moment meant a lot to Soda; his best friend and best brother finally coming together to find an understanding.

"What the hell happened?" I reached out to Soda for the first aid kit. "You’ve never looked this bad before." I commented as Soda sat down on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in contact with his brother.

There wasn’t much I could do with cracked ribs, but I rifled through the supplies I had so I could patch up the open areas on his face thanks to his father. I pulled out some antiseptic to clean some of the worst areas when he dropped the bomb.

"He’s pissed he won’t have a punching bag no more." Steve spit out bitterly.

"You finally decide to hit him back?" My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

I don’t know what happened to Steve’s mother. Rumour has it, she skipped town with some trucker when Steve was just five, but it was just a rumour that was never verified by Steve. One thing was certain, his old man was bitter about something and always saw fit to make Steve pay for it. Through all of the bruises and put-downs and insults, Steve never raised a hand back at his father.

"Fuck that. He ain’t worth the pot I piss in. I signed up for ‘Nam. I’m fucking out of here."

I stopped what I was doing and tried to swallow. My mouth was agape as I wished desperately that I’d heard him wrong. My eyes slowly moved to Sodapop and took note of the obvious way my brother shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.

Ponyboy may have known Sodapop backwards and forwards, but I knew him well enough to know that he’d never let his best friend sign up to serve in a senseless war alone.

I don’t even remember if I was breathing. Soda’s shifty gaze met mine for a mere second, and I knew what the two of them had done. Steve Randal and my brother Sodapop were going off to war.


	23. Twenty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Anyone hear from Murphy or Garcia?"

"Yeah, I think Murph got deployed. Anyone know for sure?"

"Already? I thought he was still in Basic?"

"Hell if I know. You hear anything, Muscles?"

I glanced up from my work and shook my head non committal. I didn’t give two fucks, a shit, or a damn about Murphy or Garcia. Not anymore, anyways. Not since my horse’s ass younger brother decided to sign his dumb ass up for Vietnam with his best friend. I didn’t care about my co-workers anymore. Lately, it felt as though I didn’t care about anything except for the fact that my brother was going to be leaving us, and deep down I knew there wasn’t much that I could do about it.

It’d been over a week now, and Sodapop was avoiding me like the plague. Not one thing was ever mentioned about him joining his friend in going to Vietnam since the night he dragged Steve home and let him drop the bomb. I suppose I could’ve played dumb; he didn’t confirm or deny whether he was going or not. It was all Steve. But I knew Sodapop well enough, and his absence along with the silence were speaking volumes. He knows that I know.

Ponyboy seemed to be none the wiser when it came to Soda’s sudden career plans. I was damned if I was going to be the one to sit Pony down and explain why the most important person in his life decided to tear our family apart, only to take part in a war that was most likely going to get him killed. After everything this family had been through, I couldn’t believe the boy that understood everything was going to put us all through this.

My world’s thrown upside down as I realize I’m now going to have to worry over both of my brothers once again. Soda is far from being dependent like our youngest brother now is, but the thought of him purposely putting himself in harm’s way so carelessly...I feel like I’m barely hanging on by my fingernails; uncertain if I’ll be able to go through this again. I’ve already given everything that I had in me so that the three of us could be together. I wasn’t sure how much that I had left.

* * *

The house is dark as I sit alone in the living room. The TV is on with no sound, and I sit and stare. I have no idea what’s playing; I’m a prisoner in my dread and worry. Nothing has ever gone right for the Curtis family, and it feels like it never will. I’m too distraught to admit that I’m being overly bitter, but life keeps taking and taking, and there’s nothing left to give. Except my brother...

The phone rings on a few occasions, but I don’t answer. I know that it’s Beth, but I have no strength for the life I once had and enjoyed outside of these four walls. Everything seems to have lost meaning to me, and I realize that I’m having a hard time snapping out of it. I know in my heart that Beth would be the one person who could help me through this terror that’s taken hold of me, but I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to pick up the phone. So I stared blankly at it until it went silent.

The door opens and closes quietly as my brothers return home from their evening out. Soda’s kept his promise to Ponyboy; this time he took his brother out with himself and Steve. I can’t help but wonder if he’s already prepping Ponyboy; the one person who’s sun rises and sets on Soda’s mere existence, for when he’ll no longer be around.

"You gonna be okay, kiddo?" Soda’s voice has its usual gentle tone when talking to Pony.

"I’m okay. You okay, Soda?"

"Yeah, hon. Why don’t you get on to bed; I’ll be there in a bit."

"Love you, Soda."

"Me too, you."

I heard the shuffling, and knew the two of them were holding on to each other. It’s what they do. It’s what they’ve been doing since Ponyboy was born. It’s what used to get them called "pansies" and the like from the guys in and out of the neighborhood, so they kept it to themselves. After everything that happened to Ponyboy once Johnny and Dally died, they didn’t hide it anymore, and unlike myself they didn’t care about the name calling and the teasing.

I could tell that something was off as I sat by myself in the dim light of the television. I could hear that Pony was upset. The sound of his sniffling mixed with Sodapop’s soft "it’s okay" made me wonder if Sodapop already talked to Pony about what was going on. Why else would the two of them be acting this way?

"What the hell are you doin’ sittin’ here in the dark like a spook? Jesus, Darry." Soda grinned at me like nothing in the world was wrong; like our world wasn’t about to fall apart.

I wanted to, but I couldn’t look at my brother; I didn’t have the strength. I knew that if I looked into his eyes I’d break, and I needed every last ounce of composure I had left in me. I knew that I had to stay solid and strong. I’d do whatever it took to make Sodapop see what a huge mistake he was making.

"Darry?" Soda plopped down on the couch beside me, and I felt the sharp intake of air hit my lungs. "Hey, you okay? Somethin’ happen? You and Beth...?" Soda stopped mid-sentence when I decided to turn my head and look at him. His eyes were wet and red, but I didn’t let the fact distract me.

"Are we gonna talk about this, or you gonna keep stringin’ this along like a yo-yo?"

"I dunno what you’re talkin’ ‘bout." Soda answered a little too quickly for my tastes right before he jumped up from the couch and started pacing the floor.

"I’m talkin’ about you taggin’ along all the way to Vietnam with your knuckle head friend!"

" _Vietnam_?" He looked at me like he wasn’t sure what I was talking about and for a second I felt relief in the hope that maybe I misjudged him. But as soon as that hope rose, it sank again when Soda closed his eyes, and brought his hand up to cover his face.

"Do you have any idea just what the fuck you’re doin’?" I felt the surge of emotions meld into one thing: anger.

“Shhhh!" Sodapop hissed at me as he looked towards the bedroom down the hall like he had vision that could see through walls. "Keep it down!"

"He _doesn’t_ know?" I looked at him confused.

"It’s a good opportunity for somebody like me, Darry." Soda started and I began seeing red.

" _Good opportunity?_ A good opportunity to get your head blown off, Soda Patrick Curtis! What the hell’s the matter with you? Give your goddam head a shake!"

"What else am I gonna do? They’re gonna draft me anyway; or worse yet, they’ll draft you. This way you’re with Ponyboy and it’s a done deal. There’s no hope for a guy like me anyways, Darry."

"No hope? Are you smellin’ what you’re shovellin’, Soda? Listen, the only person under this roof that ever thought you were stupid is you. I never thought you were even when you convinced me to let you drop out of school. Ponyboy certainly doesn’t think you’re dumb. If you took one second to apply yourself when you were in school, you could’ve done what you wanted in life."

"Bullshit!" Soda snapped at me.

"Bullshit? What about your job at the hospital?" I was trying to get through to my brother that he wasn’t just some waste of skin hoodlum on the East side of Tulsa. He could do more with his life than sign up for a war and have that life needlessly taken away in some foreign country.

"I only got that job because of Greg."

"Oh bullshit, Sodapop! Greg sees in you what everyone sees. There’s more to you. Look at the way you take care of your brother. You’re the one that got him through the nightmare that happened to him. You’re the one helping him through all of his seizures. You’re the one that was there when he quit school; helping him through his schoolwork at home, which by the way I have no idea how, but you are. You’re not dumb! It’s not hopeless!"

Soda stood and stared at me sadly for a moment before quickly leaving the living room. I fought with myself for a moment not to go after him, but before my decision was made, he was back holding out an envelope. It was addressed to him from the Tulsa Board of Education.

I looked at him quickly before my fingers fumbled with the torn envelope, reaching inside clumsily for its neatly folded contents. When I unfolded the papers and started reading, I felt like I was being hit over the head with a two-by-four.

"What the hell have you been up to this past year, Pepsi?" I couldn’t help the smile as it suddenly pulled up from the corner of my mouth.

The school board wanted to congratulate Soda on receiving his high school diploma. I was awestruck, but also confused and a little hurt. Part of me felt like I was so detached from my own brother; how did I not know what was going on, and why hadn’t he told me? How was he able to pull this off and not have me notice?

"C average ain’t that good. I ain’t no Ponyboy. I ain’t you neither." Soda looked disappointed, but I’m not sure I’d ever been prouder.

"And we ain’t you. This ain’t bad, Soda. A C average ain’t bad. Lookit! You got B’s in history and biology! How the fuck did you manage this?" I laughed as I read on through the papers.

"Greg talked me into it. Signed me up for night classes and made sure I got to all of ‘em. Pony helped. A lot. I paid attention when he was doin’ his homework; started helpin’. He don’t even know. Kinda wanted it to be a surprise, but everything’s happening so fast, Darry."

Greg. Of course. He was like a phantom of support when I least expected it. He’d saved Pony’s life, and that was all it took for him to garner Sodapop’s undying trust and respect. It was enough for Soda to let him influence him into making something more of himself, and I was grateful, but I was also a little hurt that I wasn’t that person for Sodapop. I wasn’t the one he came to.

"This is incredible, Soda. I don’t know what to say." And it was true.

Not many people in my life had the capacity to throw me off kilter, but my brother Soda was becoming the master of it. Like the whirlwind of a little boy that he used to be; laying out on his belly, kissing ants on the sidewalk while mom was out hanging laundry on the line to dry. Years later, Sodapop was still a whirlwind that could take your breath away.

I folded the letter and neatly placed it back into the envelope before handing it back to it’s owner. I looked on at my brother with this strange sense of joy and yet sadness. I was looking at Soda, and yet I felt like there was a lot to him that I didn’t know at all. I was so proud of him; I knew that it would’ve taken everything in him to complete this feat with taking care of Ponyboy and two jobs between classes at night. And yet I knew that the pride wasn’t mine to feel because I hadn’t been able to help him one bit. He kept it all from me.

"I know you wanna talk about shit, but it’s been a bit of a rough night. Can we sit on this for awhile?" Soda looked absolutely miserable, and I could tell there was more going on in the secret life of Soda Curtis.

"Are you okay, little buddy? What’s goin’ on, Pepsi?"

And like _he’d_ done a million times with his little brother, _I_ reached out and let my hand gently cup his face. I didn’t want my brother to be a stranger. I wanted him to tell me everything, even if it made me madder than hell. I wanted my brother to let me in. I wanted him to come to me and let me be his big brother.

"I love you, Darry."

Soda’s face was suddenly squashed into my shoulder while he started to sob. His hands clung onto my belt and I moved my arms around him to offer him anything that could make him feel better, but it only seemed to make him more upset.

"Talk to me, Soda. I’m here for you; you gotta know that. I’m here for you." My hands moved up to hold his face as I backed away half a step and forced him to meet my gaze.

"I really fucked it up this time, Darry. I’m so sorry!" And my brother was hanging onto me again.

"It’s okay, little buddy. We’re gonna find a way out of this; I don’t care if I gotta drive you all the way up to Canada. I’m gonna get you out of this."

I felt a bit of hope in my words, because I meant them. I’d do whatever it took to protect Soda from going off to slaughter in the brutal carnage that was Vietnam. I’d do anything. I felt my brother start to tremble, and for a moment I thought that he was laughing, but when he brought his head up to look at me, he was sobbing all the harder.

"I knew you were gonna say that." He bawled.

"What’s wrong?"

We broke apart abruptly when we heard the panicked rasp coming from the kitchen. Ponyboy was looking on at us anxiously while he chewed on his thumbnail. Soda wiped at his eyes hurriedly although it was too late. I jammed my fists in my pockets, and for once in my life I wasn’t sure how to handle a situation.

"What’s wrong?" Pony repeated as he slowly hobbled his way to his brother for reassurance.

"Nothin’ kiddo. I thought I told you to get to bed? I’ll be there in a sec." Soda sniffed.

"Don’t lie, Soda. What’s wrong? Is it…"

"We were just talkin’ about stuff, Pony." Soda hastily interrupted his brother, and once again I was wondering what was going on between the two of them.

"Soda," I urged softly. If anyone needed to know what Soda and Steve had done, it was Ponyboy. Sodapop was his whole world, and this was going to hit him hard.

"I can’t do this!" Soda started sobbing again and sunk hopelessly onto the couch.

"Is it ‘cause you miss Jack?" Pony’s voice was slight as he started for his brother, but then stopped dead in his tracks and covered his mouth as Soda looked at him horrified. I wasn’t sure what I’d heard.

"I’m so sorry." It was barely a whisper, but Ponyboy’s eyes were begging his brother for forgiveness.

" _Jack_?" I looked between the two of them for clarification. "Who’s Jack?" I’d never heard either one of them talking about anyone by that name before.

"Please don’t be mad at me!" Pony sat beside Soda on the couch and grabbed for his brother, but he didn’t need to. Soda had his arm wrapped around him in a second, and rested his face against his brother’s while he started to cry again.

I looked on like a voyeur. This was the tale of my brother’s lives where I didn’t seem to play any sort of part in this particular chapter. Suddenly it seemed as though the Vietnam war had very little to do with the emotional turmoil Soda had sunk himself into.

I took a good look at him, and I could see the effects everything he’d gone through; all of the trauma done to Ponyboy, and all Soda had done to help him through it laced with this secret life he’d been living where he was working two jobs and going to school. And they called me Superman?

"Somebody better tell me what in the hell is going on, and I mean right now! Who’s Jack? Are you in some sort of trouble with him?"

Soda sniffed back his tears before moving his face; placing a quick kiss on the side of Pony’s head before shaking his head. He took a deep breath and let it out before he finally looked at me.

"He’s my kid, Darry. Jack’s my son."


	24. Twenty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

_My back aches as I slide out of dad's old truck and make my way for the house. I've got my tool belt slung over my one shoulder with one hand holding my lunchbox, and my other hand is already rubbing the base of my back to try and ease at least some of the tightness. The last few days have been almost more than I can bare, but it's been rough on all the boys, and it's all because of me._

_Three nights ago, I'd lost my cool and struck Pony after he straggled in after two in the morning. Apparently, he'd fallen asleep in the vacant lot talking with his best friend. It was stupid; I knew it at the time, but I was so angry, worried, tired, and frustrated trying to figure out where this teenager's head was at, that no amount of reason or logic mattered. I was wound up so tight along with Soda and Ponyboy, the next thing I knew, all three of us were yelling at each other and then Ponyboy was up against the door with my hand print marring the side of his face. He was out the door like a flash of lightning after that. I couldn't believe what I had done._

_Everything happened so fast, and instead of going out after him, we made the mistake of giving him time to cool off and come back home on his own. He didn't come home. Instead, I had the police at my front door at the break of day asking where my brother was at. A kid had been killed in the park and my brother and Johnny were suspects. That was three nights ago. A lifetime ago._

_"Just take it easy, man." I hear Steve tell my brother while I'm at the doorway kicking off my boots._

_My toolbelt gets hung up, and I'm still clawing at my back while I tiredly make my way for the kitchen to drop my lunch kit off and see that my brother and his best friend are sitting at the kitchen table. I'm wanting desperately for Soda to lay me out and walk all over my back with those gifted hands of his, but right now he's looking more tired and miserable than I've ever felt in my life. He's worrying himself sick over Ponyboy, and it's my fault._

_"I was there, Steve! Don't tell me to take it easy. Dally knows where they are!"_

_"What are you talkin' about?" I suddenly break into their conversation._

_Soda looks up at me with bleary eyes, and then lifts a small bundle from his lap that's hidden underneath the kitchen table and shucks it at me. I fumble with the navy-blue material for a moment before I realize it's Sodapop's old sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. It's the shirt Ponyboy was wearing the night he ran away._

_"Where the hell did this come from? Where is he?" I'm just short of yelling, but the look on Sodapop's face lets me know he's as clueless as I am._

_"Ask Dally. I found that in his room." Soda sniffed._

_"His room? Soda Patrick Curtis…" I was immediately distracted from the news of Pony, with the sudden realization of where Soda had landed himself._

_Dally's room was a rent by the night suite at Buck Merril's Drug and Prostitute Hotel. Both of my brothers were under strict orders from me to stay clear of that entire block. The last thing I needed while trying to keep two younger brothers from getting thrown into a boy's home or foster care, was to have them caught within a mile of Buck's place. Dallas Winston could be friends with who he wanted to be, but my brothers were my responsibility._

_"Chill out, Superman. Buck's harmless." Steve drawled as he pulled out a comb from his back pocket and started fussing with the greased-up swirls on the top of his cocky head._

_I quickly snatched the comb from his hand mid-groom and chucked it at the dirty dishes that were piled up in the sink before looking down at my brother again. Buck was far from harmless. The guy gave me the creeps and there was no telling what he was capable of when it came to a couple of un-suspecting kids from the wrong side of town._

_"Christ, Darry!" Steve whined and headed to the sink to fetch his comb._

_"Buck Merril is bad news. You know that, so you wanna tell me what the hell you were doing there?"_

_Soda sat silently at the table, intent on picking at his fingernails while avoiding my gaze. Part of me wanted to throttle him from across the table, but three nights ago was reminder enough of where that would get me, and I'd learned my lesson ten-fold. I'd never lay another angry hand on either of my brothers. Ever._

_"Soda," I deliberately tried to gentle my voice as I sat down in my chair._

_Soda looked up at me; his brown eyes filled with misery. He glanced at Steve, who then slowly proceeded back to a chair and sat down. Soda stared at Steve's comb; maybe looking for answers or finding the answers for himself. When he finally found what he was looking for, he gazed back in my direction._

_"I need money. Figured Dally could hook me up with something without me havin' to go to Buck."_

_"You need money?" I repeated out loud, wondering what sort of trouble my brother had gotten into that he'd have to get money from a thug. "What the hell's goin' on Soda?"_

_Soda looked at his buddy. Steve looked back, and then nodded. Soda met my gaze again._

_"Sandy's in trouble."_

_"Sandy?" I repeated and watched as both Soda and Steve nodded. It didn't take but a second to know what kind of trouble Sandy had gotten herself in. There was only one kind of trouble two kids could get themselves into on this side of the tracks._

_"I thought you two were being careful? Jesus Christ, Soda Patrick Curtis!" My hands flew to my head; fingers clawing at the strands of hair and I wondered dumbly if I'd have any hair left by the time my brothers were grown and out of the house on their own._

_"It ain't his." Steve interjected before I jumped over the edge and lost control, and I quickly looked at Sodapop for clarification. Soda started crying._

_"I was careful. I was…"_

_I watched my brother break down. Steve reached over and patted Soda's shoulder while I felt a headache start to stir. My hands moved up and started rubbing over my face, concentrating around my eyes when they felt like they were going to spring out of their sockets._

_Sodapop had always defended Sandy when I told him to be careful. "She's not like that, Darry! She's not like the others!" is what he'd insist every time we had "the talk". And now here we were, and it looked as though Sandy was exactly that kind of girl._

_"What do you need the money for? Is it illegal?" In my head, I was sure they were going to end the pregnancy, but I should've known my brother better than that._

_"No," Soda sniffed and looked up at me. "I wanna marry her, Darry."_

_"Awe, Soda. For cryin' out loud, you're sixteen years old!" I bolted up from the kitchen table and started to pace the floor._

_My brother was already a drop-out. Sixteen years old and he had himself working full time at a gas station to help me run the household. Now he was itching to get himself married and have a family of his own. It's not that I didn't think he could do it. I always thought that Sodapop could do anything if he put his mind to it, but I wanted more for my happy-go-lucky brother. I knew he didn't have the brains that Pony or I had when it came to school, but I still hoped he'd have more in life. I hoped he'd never have to settle. What the fuck was he thinking?_

_"I love her, Darry. I can make it work. It's a baby; I can love it like it's mine."_

_Soda looked at me with a small sparkle of hope in his eyes. It was just like him to want to marry Sandy after her cheating. It was just like Sodapop to love her anyway. I wondered if his capacity to love and forgive made him incredible, or just incredibly naïve. The look on his face was enough for me to give in._

_I walked down the hallway and made my way to the bedroom. I was pretty sure this whole mess was going to blow up in our faces, but I knew my brother enough to know there was no talking him out of something once his mind was made up. I sat down on the edge of the bed while I opened the top drawer of the night stand and grabbed the blue velvet box._

_I opened the box and looked at the ring my father had given my mother. He must've saved every penny he had to buy her the ring; a gold band adorned with three diamonds. In turn she'd adorn him with three sons. There were many times I'd reach for this box, wondering if it was the answer to getting us out of the shit we seemed to land in when it came to money. I knew mom's ring would fetch a decent price, but it was the last thing we had of her, and I could never bring myself to pawn it…_

… "So, it _was_ your baby? You lied to me. Why can't you just be straight with me?"

A year later and we're back at the kitchen table. This time Ponyboy is to my left, and Soda is to my right as we hash out the past and the present in all it's fucked-up glory.

"She told me it wasn't. Went off to Florida to live with her grandparents so I wouldn't find out the truth. She didn't want to ruin my life, she said."

"You knew about this?" I turned my attention to Ponyboy, the keeper of all Soda's secrets. He looked at me nervously as though he were about to cry. I reached out to pet his hair.

"I'm not mad, baby. You're a good brother, you know that? You're the best brother, honest to God." And I'd meant it.

"He looks like me. Soda even said so!" Pony looked tickled for a moment until I'm sure the look on my face sobered him up and left him chewing on his bottom lip in silence.

"He looks like you?" I turn my head and glare at Sodapop. "You've seen him? Pony's seen him?"

"Sandy's been in town the last few weeks. I just found out, Darry. Swear to God, I didn't know until I saw him."

"So, she came back and now wants you to support her…"

"No, Darry. It ain't like that! I told ya; Sandy's a good girl. Always was. We messed up; she just did what she thought was best and what she thought I wanted."

I could see the love and adoration on his face when he talked about Sandy. It was like the look on his face when he talked about or looked at his little brother. Soda's had girls throwing themselves at him from day one and he'd had his fun. When Sandy came along, I knew things were different for him. He was head-over-heels, but I figured it for young love. I didn't realize until that moment, that this was the real deal. And now my little brother was a daddy.

"So, what do you wanna do?" I asked as calmly as I could.

Soda looked down at the blue velvet box of mom's that I'd handed to him for a second time. He slowly opened it and let his fingers trace over the gold band and stones. He then shut the box and put it on the table while he covered his mouth and shook his head; his face full of doubt.

"I can't do this. I can't give her the life she deserves, that's why she left in the first place. I can't raise a son. I don't know the first thing!"

"Soda, what on earth is he? A trained monkey?" I pointed to Ponyboy, who started pouting from the comparison I'd used. Soda looked at me confused.

"You do realize you've played a part in this, right?" My hand covered Pony's shoulder and I rubbed affectionately to make my point.

"I ain't you, Darry. You're the dad in all of this; makin' all the tough decisions and rules. I ain't even like dad was. I just follow your lead. I'm just the one that tries to make things fun."

"You don't gotta be me, Soda. You don't even gotta be like dad. You just gotta be you."

"But I don't know where to start. I…" Soda shrugged.

"Start by taking mom and dad's room. You, Sandy and the baby. I'll move my shit out and if Pony don't mind, I'll bunk with him. There's a spare room if Steve wants it. Either way you're gonna _talk_ to him." I give Soda a pointed look so as not to tip Ponyboy off about their cockamamie idea about going to Vietnam. "Talk to him and you tell him this is how it is."

"Darry, I can't do this to you again. I can't make you pay for something I've done."

"Soda, when are you gonna get it through your thick skull?"

"I'm not gonna ruin your life, Darry!" Soda cried out at me, but I just reached out and held his hand to calm him.

"My life is right here at this kitchen table. Without the two of you, I don't have anything. It'll be alright, little buddy. It'll be tight for a while, but we'll figure it out. It'll work itself out."

I'd meant every word. I came too close to losing one brother; I'd do anything to keep that from happening again. I knew that Soda would want his privacy eventually and would move him and Sandy and their baby to their own place and own lives when they got sick of me being me. But until that happened, I'd do whatever I could to get them on their feet.

Soda looked unbelievingly at me before dropping his head to his chest. He started to cry. Ponyboy looked at me worriedly as he reached across the table for his brother with his good hand. Soda grabbed onto him like a lifeline.

"It'll work out, little buddy. It's okay, we'll do this together. It's okay." I repeated while placed my hand over my brother's.

Soda slowly looked up at me, smiling through his tears.

"I knew you were gonna say that."


	25. Twenty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I didn’t have time to wonder if I was making a mistake. The next day I opened the door to the spare bedroom to rifle through the junk we’d been avoiding since the day mom and dad had died. It was Soda’s and my old room. We’d shared it; grew up together in it for most of our lives. Soda would probably still be using it if our parents were still around. It wasn’t until Ponyboy started up with those horrific nightmares of his, that Sodapop decided to bunk with him. The nightmares stopped for the most part, until Martin Campbell broke into our lives and we all started having them.

I coughed my way through the years of dust that blanketed the things of the past and tried to ignore the memories they stirred. Our lives had always been tough, but we always seemed to weather through. I knew the next chapter of our lives was going to be at best difficult, but it was nothing like what we’d already been through and survived. I knew we’d get Sodapop through this hurdle. We’d tackle it together, and I knew we could overcome anything when we stuck together.

The room wasn’t that large, but it took most of the afternoon and evening for me to clean it and get it ready. When the last of the linens were washed, and the last of the boxes of old toys, books, and trophies were moved, I let myself relax and smile at a job well done. We’d have a full house with the arrival of Sandy and the baby, and although Soda hadn’t said anything about Steve’s reaction to my offer, I was confident I’d worked out a solution he wouldn’t say no to.

The guys, including Pony were hanging out most of the day, and planned on hitting the bowling alley later on. There was a standing invitation for me as well, but I decided to call it an early night for myself. I considered inviting Beth over at first, but it’d been a few weeks of me avoiding her, and I knew it’d take more than just a phone call to make it up to her. I knew that it wasn’t right or fair of me, but with Sodapop’s revelations, I was too preoccupied to let myself care, and time did what time always did; it slipped by.

I don’t know how late it was when the boys finally got home, but I hoped they were able to have fun without thinking too much about everything that was happening. I tried not to give it too much thought; the plan was set in motion and after busting my nuts cleaning out the spare room, I was dead to the world and having a restful sleep. It wasn’t until I realized that I wasn’t alone, that I opened one eye to scan the clock. It was well after two in the morning.

It was second nature to feel that head lay itself on my shoulder, just like it was second nature to reach over for the bedside lamp so that my youngest brother wouldn’t have to fight his demons in the dark. It was an occurrence that didn’t even require me to open my eyes anymore, and now when I thought about it, I could barely remember that there was once a time when I slept a night without being woken up by either one of my brothers. But that was a lifetime ago, and now I didn’t even think twice.

"Don’t,"

My eyes opened to the sound of my brother’s voice, but it wasn’t the brother that I was expecting.

"S’ok, it’s just me." Soda whispered, his head finally resting comfortably.

"What’s goin’ on, little buddy? Is Pony…" I started to sit up, worried.

"It’s okay, Darry. He’s sound asleep. Y’know he had a lot of fun tonight."

"That’s good," I lay back down and felt myself relax. "That’s real good. How’d he do?"

"Not bad. Was a bit of teasin’ from some assholes when we first got there, but things got quiet fast when the Shepard’s showed up."

I chuckled to myself and made a mental note to myself to find Tim and thank him. We’d never been that close even though the past had our gangs backing each other up when needed, but it seemed to me as though Tim had gone above and beyond the call for my family. Strangely and unexpectedly, Tim had become a friend.

"You havin’ nightmares then? What’s up, Sodapop?" I teased as I felt sleep pull at me once again.

"Nah. I’m okay, Darry. I’m gonna be okay. You don’t gotta worry about me. It’s gonna be okay." Soda tried to reassure me, but it wasn’t necessary.

"You know you’re not alone, little buddy." I rolled towards him and threw an arm over him. "We’re in this together like everything else."

I held my brother a little tighter when I thought I heard him start crying, and I lay quietly with the thought that maybe more was going on that he wasn’t telling me. There was so much I wanted to say, but I’d nodded off before I was able to get any of it out.

I could hear a car door slam when my eyes opened and I turned my head to the left to find myself alone. For an instant I thought to play dumb, half convincing myself that nothing was out of sorts even though nothing had been right in over a year. My stomach slammed and churned, and I felt a wave of nausea when it felt as though someone was walking over my grave. My eyes closed and I swallowed hard, and then I heard the front door close.

The chill ran down my back and I remembered Sodapop had snuck in my room in the middle of the night. At the time it seemed innocent enough; two brothers touching base in the middle of the night, but there was something I couldn’t put my finger on. Sodapop had been crying.

My eyes flew open as reality suddenly dawned on me. I was out of bed and at my window just as Soda threw a duffle bag in the back of a taxi cab.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! You son of a bitch, you are _not_ doing this to me!"

I scrambled, rushing to throw on the first items of clothing I saw. I didn’t care if they were clean or filthy by that point. My jeans were barely on as I tore out of my room to make it out the front door to stop my brother from making the biggest mistake of his life. Soda was just about to ease into the cab.

"Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?"

Soda’s head whipped around at the sound of my voice and he looked as startled as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming catastrophe. I could tell he was debating whether to just get in that cab and hightail it out of there rather than face me, but after a moment, he turned around.

"Gimme a sec, would ya?" He said to the cab driver before shutting the back door.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I slowly walked down the steps of the porch to make my way to my brother.

"Cripes, Darry! Where’s your clothes? You ain’t even got any shoes on! It’s cold; you’re gonna get sick…"

"What are you doing?" I repeated although I already knew the answer.

Soda tried to smile and brush me off like he’d been doing to everyone his whole life in order to get away with shit he didn’t want to face or own up to. I wasn’t having any of it today though, and it didn’t take long for that megawatt smile of his to fade into nothing but frustration.

"You know what I’m doing." His tone was accusatory. I grimaced with a nod.

"Where’s Steve?" I looked around and in the cab, but there was no sign.

"What?" Soda looked confused.

"You heard me. Where the fuck is Steve?" I yelled as my patience for my brother wore thin.

"Whatta ya mean, where’s Steve? What does he hafta do with anything?" Soda yelled back.

"Well, he’s the reason you signed up for all this G.I. Joe bullshit, ain’t it? So where the fuck is he, huh?"

"I’m meeting him at the bus station." Soda mumbled so lowly I could barely hear him over the frantic pounding of my heart.

"Huh?" I hollered at him.

"I’m meeting him." Soda spoke pointedly, his eyes slowly meeting mine.

"What about our plan? Where’s Sandy and the baby?"

"Florida. They left yesterday." Soda was back to mumbling.

"She left even after you asked her to move in? After you asked her to marry you?" I looked at my brother indignantly as he shuffled guiltily in front of me. "What about Steve, Sodapop?"

Soda broke eye contact and continued shuffling around while his face turned red. Of all the years I’d spent with him, I couldn’t remember a time where he ever made me so angry.

"You didn’t ask either of them, did you?"

Soda kept his silence; rubbing my very last and very raw nerve. I snapped, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket with both hands.

"DID YOU?" I yelled in his face, but he just looked at me. I let go.

"We had a plan..."

"No, _you_ had a plan, Darry! It was your plan, not mine!"

"And this is the better idea of the two? What the fuck is WRONG WITH YOU?"

"You can’t just fix everything, Darry! It’s not your job to have all of the answers!"

"It’s my job to see that you’re clothed and fed. It’s my job to make sure that we stay together. It’s my job to keep you from killing yourself!"

"I’m not a kid anymore, Darry. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a kid anymore."

I looked at my brother in disbelief. "Is that what this is all about? You wanna be a big man? Go kill some gooks in Vietnam?"

"No!" Soda groaned, shoving a hand in his hair.

"Then what? Explain this to me like I’m a five year old, Pepsi ‘cause I’m just not getting’ it."

"Steve’s gonna need me, Darry. How can I stay behind when my best friend is across the world fighting alone? Nobody’s gonna watch his back better than I can."

"Yeah, well it ain’t Steve’s back I’m worried about. What about Sandy? What about your _son_ , Soda?"

I could feel the desperation rise inside of me. I knew how strong Soda could be when he’d made up his mind, and I was starting to worry that it was too late for me to reach him.

"He don’t know me from Adam. They’re good; gotta good set-up in Florida."

"It’s your son, Soda. I thought you wanted to be a family; you, Sandy, and the baby?"

"How ‘m I gonna raise a family? Huh? At least I can make a career out of this and make half a living which is more than I’m doing now."

"Can’t make a living when you’re dead. Get your head outta your ass!"

"Yo, kid. You need a ride or what?" The voice of the cab driver broke through what was becoming very clear to me. I was losing my brother.

"Yeah, in a minute." Soda answered.

"So your plan was to sneak off at the break of day? Not so much as a goodbye? No note? Nothing? That’s what I get?" I shook my head, disappointed and heartbroken.

"Steve needs me. I didn’t wanna risk you changing my mind."

There was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could say. I knew he’d made up his mind long before he decided to gather the courage to tell me his plans. He’d made up his mind as soon as Steve had signed himself up to fight in a war that didn’t even make any sense. My hand ran down and then back around my face while I inwardly pleaded for all of this to be some kind of sick joke, but the ache in my chest told me what I knew. This was really happening.

I didn’t know whether to hold onto Sodapop for dear life, or to throttle the piss out of him for doing this to us; to me. It took me years, and everything that I had in me to keep the three of us together, and then in just one morning all those efforts were blown all to hell. I looked on at Soda; his eyes hard in anticipation for another fight he was sure he was going to get from me. But I dug even lower. I scoured through the mud and the sludge in one last desperate attempt to get him to stay.

"And just what the hell am I supposed to tell your brother, hmmm?" My voice shook as violently as my hands as I felt the hot tears of dread descend.

Deep sadness along with awareness covered the features of my handsome brother, and for a moment I thought I’d found victory. It was the piece of he puzzle we hadn’t yet mentioned, and I played his love—his absolute devotion for Ponyboy like a finely tuned instrument, knowing that he would never do anything to hurt him.

I felt a giant sense of relief when I thought I’d won, but as soon as the feeling came, it passed as a gentle smile crossed Soda’s face and he looked at me softly, forgiving me for using Ponyboy as a pawn. His hands reached out and cupped my face.

"You tell him that I love him. Tell him that he’s my hero; that he’s the strongest, most amazing person I’ve ever known in my whole life, and that when I _finally_ grow the fuck up I wanna be just like him, Darry."

My eyes clenched, and I choked out a sob as I bowed my head in defeat and in shame. I didn’t want this for my brother. I was selfish and weak and wanted him home safe with Ponyboy and me. I was willing to take on the weight of three more mouths to feed just to keep him home. But I couldn’t hold him back, and I couldn’t blame him. Right now, Steve needed him, and Steve was family. Sodapop was only doing what I would do, and what Ponyboy had already done for his brother not so very long ago.

"I can’t do it." Soda said softly as he rested his forehead against my own. "I can’t say goodbye to him. I’m sorry. I know I’m a coward, but I can’t..." and with that, he broke down.

There were a lot of things about my brother’s relationship with one another that I didn’t understand. I would’ve, and was willing to go to any distance for either of my brothers but there still wasn’t the same connection with me like the two of them had with one another. Maybe it was all that time I spent judging Ponyboy too harshly instead of trying to get to know him better. Maybe it was because I didn’t allow myself the same freedom to show my feelings, when my two baby brothers were all over the place with theirs. But this was one task that I was not up for. Soda leaving Ponyboy to go fight in Vietnam without so much as a goodbye was something I’d never be able to make Pony understand. This was going to kill him. He’d never be the same again, and he’d already lost too much in his life.

"He isn’t going to understand this, Pepsi. Don’t you dare make me do this to him, please! It’ll kill him. Please, don’t make me be the one! I’m begging you!"

And I was. Without realizing it, I’d given myself up to every fear and emotion that’d been running through me until I was nothing but a tangled web of despair and I couldn’t do anything but cry out to him and beg.

There was nothing I could do to change the course of what was happening; I’d played all my cards and it didn’t make a difference. Soda Patrick Curtis, my brother was leaving for Vietnam and I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again, and even if I did, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

"Please, Darry. Please don’t be mad; try to understand!"

Soda bawled as he clung to me, and despite my own anguish, my heart broke for him. I knew that this was not an easy decision for him to make. I knew that he thought he was doing the right thing. I wanted to hate my brother for what he was going to put me and Pony through, but I couldn’t. The past taught me that nothing is ever given to us permanently. Life would take what it wanted regardless of the cost. I would try my hardest to understand, but seeing things from all sides was Sodapop’s gift, not mine. But I would try, and I wouldn’t let my brother leave thinking I hated him.

"I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

“I can’t let him go alone, Darry. Stevie’s my brother too!”

”I know, Soda." I held on to him fiercely, not ever wanting to let go. "But it don’t make it any easier, and it don’t mean I gotta like it. I can try to...understand.”

And I wondered once again what fate had in store for us. I tried to convince myself that none of this was personal, but that’s exactly how it felt; personal. God had taken our parents, and then two of our best friends. When that wasn’t quite enough, He took a huge piece of Ponyboy, and destroyed it. Was it Sodapop’s turn now?

"Darry!" Soda continued to cry as he gripped me close to him, and it felt exactly like my heart was breaking. "I love you so much! You’ll never know!"

The horn from the cab blew and startled the both of us. There was nothing that would change Sodapop’s mind except the brother he didn’t have the strength to say goodbye to. He’d chosen Steve over Ponyboy, and I wondered foolishly if Steve would be as smug about it as he’d been in the past.

"You look out for one another. And you bring your ass home, do you hear me?"

I looked deep in Soda’s eyes, willing him to change his mind just one last time, but he slowly shook his head. I nodded and flung my arm around him one last time, bringing him as close as I could, paying extra close attention to the feeling of him; not wanting to forget.

"I love you, little buddy. Go take care of him." I nodded towards the cab. "Pony will be okay. You just get your ass back here in one piece."

Soda smiled sadly at me before turning around. He didn’t look back at me; maybe he was having second thoughts. One thing was for certain; he knew that I was lying. He knew that our brother wouldn’t be okay with any of this. Ponyboy’s well-being depended heavily on the fact that Sodapop was always there. What I didn’t realize, was that mine was as well.


	26. Twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I was frozen. I guess it had more to do with the actual shock of coming to realize that Sodapop was really gone, than the chill of the March wind that was blowing through my bones. The taxi had long since turned down the street, but I kept watch; still hoping against hope it would turn back and return my brother. It never did, but I stood there while I felt the cold burn at the bottom of my feet and I looked down to see that I was standing barefoot in what was left of winter. I couldn’t move.

I closed my eyes and let the remnants of that winter air scream across my face; drying those pathetic tears that never made one bit of difference. Life opened up her greedy little arms and took what she damn well pleased from me; no begging or pleading ever changed her mind and I was her slave as long as my heart continued to beat. The pain and loss of the last couple of years finally covered me, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I prayed for the wind to make me numb, but it only served the tips of my fingers and the blue mottling of my feet, while my heart continued to feel nothing and everything—that hollow, nagging ache that would never go away.

Time suddenly meant nothing to me. It had stopped, and I stood out at the foot of the yard for God knows how long. When I finally opened my eyes, Two-Bit was standing in front of me; his mouth moving, although I couldn’t understand the words. I stared at him blankly in sudden detachment as I started to feel the ache inside start to suffocate me. I couldn’t catch my breath.

"Darry, c’mon."

Two-Bit’s words slowly broke through as he scrambled out of his leather jacket, and wrapped it around my shoulders, not letting go. I looked at him strangely; the sudden realization that he was it. Everyone else was gone except him, me, and Ponyboy. I blinked at him, and then looked back down the empty street where the taxi had disappeared in what already felt like years ago.

"Darry, we gotta get you in the house, you’re gonna freeze to death! Can you move your feet? What the fuck’s goin’ on?"

I could sense Two-Bit’s frustration with every failed attempt to get me to move back into the house, but it didn’t seem to matter to me. Nothing mattered as I kept watch down the street, internally making deals with God; my life for my brother’s, hoping that Sodapop would come back. The street remained deserted.

"DARRY? For fuck’s sakes, you’re scaring me! What happened? Is it Pony…? Oh, God!"

He left me standing there where my feet remained planted on ice and melt. I struggled to come up for air, but I was drowning in my life, and she had her hand firmly placed on the back of my head and under the water. She was going to make sure there were casualties.

"…scarin’ the shit outta me, kid. I thought somethin’ happened to you. Superman’s out to lunch, Ponyboy. I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on but we gotta get him inside."

A gust of wind blew the leather jacket from my shoulders as I tried to focus on anything other than the empty street that I couldn’t seem to pry my eyes from. I could vaguely hear Two-Bit blubbering behind me at the house when I felt something soft and warm gently touch my hand. That’s when the shock gave a smidge, and I realized I really had been breathing all this time.

"Darry, it’s cold. You gotta come inside."

I looked down and grinned sadly at Ponyboy as he looked on at me alarmed. My hand moved on its own accord, and I touched the side of his face before taking one last long look down that road to make sure.

"You’re gonna catch a cold." I looked back at Pony, suddenly worried by the fact he was shivering as he stood there in his T-shirt and pajamas.

"Darry, what’s the matter? Please come inside!" Pony started to get worked up, and I couldn’t help but take note how much he looked like Sodapop. The moment was over.

I took another deep breath while I abruptly wiped at my face, barely feeling anything besides the blunt sensation of dead fingers raking across my cheek. Ponyboy quickly grabbed for my hand and tugged on my arm as he made his way to the house. My feet finally moved from the snow and ice, and I slowly followed my brother.

"I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on. Was coming by to see why he didn’t come out with us last night and I find him standing out in the cold." Two-Bit was blabbing while rummaging around the living room in a fit.

Pony slowly pulled me into the living room, his arm now wrapped around my waist as he led me to the sofa. I carefully sat down, taking note of the burning numbness of my thighs as my youngest brother grabbed for the old knitted blanket from the back of the couch, and struggled to wrap it around me; that bum arm of his not helping in the least.

"Coffee, Two-Bit." Pony directed worriedly as he took a seat next to me, still shivering.

"C’mere, you’re freezing." My voice was oddly detached, like I was functioning on autopilot as my arm lifted with the blanket, and I pulled Pony next to me to warm him up.

" _I’m_ freezing _?"_ Pony looked at me incredulously. "Why you standing out in the cold with no clothes on? You’re gonna catch your death, Darry. What’s wrong?"

I couldn’t answer him; I didn’t know what to say. What words were there on this planet that would make him understand? His brother; _our_ brother had left us to go fight in Vietnam, and it was possible that he’d never come back alive. Sodapop had left me with the task of explaining things to our young brother, and I cursed him in vain. It wasn’t bad enough that he’d chosen to leave, but to leave Ponyboy without so much as a word?

I wrapped my arm tighter around my brother, felt my body start to tremble without control. Control. Something I’d lost sight of a long time ago when I was left with two younger brothers to raise, and I didn’t have the first clue as to how.

My body tried to grab as much heat as it could from Pony, and I felt him give it up freely as he clung onto me.

"Here, Darry." Two-Bit came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. "Drink this up, it should help. I don’t know about your damned feet though."

I didn’t even look. I couldn’t feel them.

"He’s got wool socks. I’ll get ‘em." Pony quickly tried to unravel us from mom’s old blanket, but I decided to hold on to him a little longer, comforted by his closeness to me.

"Where’re they hidin’? I’ll go grab ‘em." Two-Bit scratched his head, looking in at me like he wasn’t sure who I was.

"Dresser. Bottom drawer, I think." Pony rested his chin on my shoulder as he leaned in close. "Darry?" Pony tried again.

"You warm yet?" My teeth chattered as I hugged my brother to me and couldn’t help but laugh when he rolled his eyes at me.

"Drink some coffee."

Pony broke out of my hold enough to reach for the cup on the coffee table, but with his left hand being the only one free, he couldn’t hold it. I leaned over to grab it myself and brought it back with me. I took a drink as Two-Bit rushed back with his arms full.

"Here," he chucked my work socks at Ponyboy. "Make yourself useful. I grabbed the quilt off your bed. Let’s get it around him."

Pony unrolled my wool socks from each other and slipped out of my hands to slide down to the floor to put my socks on for me. The feeling was slowly returning, and I stretched and curled my toes while grimacing against the sting of them thawing. I wondered how long I was standing outside; I couldn’t remember.

"Where’s Sodapop? Want me to call him? He must be at the hospital today. The DX ain’t even open yet." Two-Bit muttered as he covered me with the quilt from Pony and Soda’s bed.

"I don’t know, he didn’t say nothin’ yesterday.” Pony shrugged as he looked on at me strangely.

"He’s with Steve." My voice cracked as I reached out to ruffle the top of Pony’s hair.

"At the DX then?" Two-Bit looked back questioningly as he headed towards the telephone.

"Bus depot," I swallowed hard and then tried to distract myself with my cup of coffee while Two-Bit and Pony stared at me.

"Somebody win a trip and not tell me?" Two-Bit cackled but stopped when he saw the look on my face. "What’s goin’ on, Darry?"

I took a long, deep breath and concentrated on the feeling of it filling my lungs. After I’d let go of that breath, I drank down the coffee in some hope it’d give me the courage I’d need to face Ponyboy.

"They both signed up for basic." I took another breath before looking at Pony. "They’re going to Vietnam."

"Yeah, right!" Two-Bit’s laughter filled the room until he took another look at me and quickly sobered. "Tell me you’re joking, Darry. I’ve been skippin’ out goin’ home to avoid my draft letter, and you’re tellin’ me Soda and Steve signed up on their own free will? What the hell are…"

I stopped listening. It was every argument I’d thrown at Sodapop, and my gut felt inside-out over it all. I focused on the confused look across Pony’s face and braced myself for his reaction.

"He’s comin’ back though, right?" His voice rasped as he put one and one together. I could only shake my head.

"Wha…how...how long is he gonna be gone?" Pony looked on at me for all the answers and I could only shrug and shake my head at him.

"Bu…but what about Jack? What about them moving in? I thought...I thought we were gonna…"

I could feel Pony’s desperation peak as I continued to shake my head sadly at him. I knew nothing I had to offer was going to comfort him through this.

"But he...he could get hurt, Darry!” And then there was panic. "Soda could die!"

"Shut your mouth, kid! Ain’t nobody gonna die!" Two-Bit snapped.

"Why didn’t you stop him? You coulda made him stay!" Pony got up from the floor and struggled not to fall over.

"Pony, come here." I reached for his hand and pulled him down next to me.

"You coulda made him stay, Darry!" And then came the tears.

"He tried, Pone. That’s why he was outside freezing in the cold."

Realization dawned on Two-Bit as to why he’d found me outside in the state I was in. He slowly backed himself against dad’s old chair and sat down in a daze.

"I…I don’t understand," Pony’s face was contorted in grief. "He didn’t even say goodbye."

"I know," I whispered as I squeezed his hand. "I’m sorry, Pony."

My words felt as hollow as the ache in my chest. My words were little consolation for the loss and betrayal Pony must’ve been feeling, but there was nothing else that I could offer him.

"I don’t think he would do that, Darry. I think he’d say something. Anything!” Pony pleaded with me, and I couldn’t do anything but hold his hand.

I squeezed his fingers and watched carefully as Ponyboy sat in silence; his face a myriad of emotions there were no words for. I quickly thought back to the day Soda and I had brought him home from the hospital; not knowing if Pony would ever be able to speak again let alone limp or walk. I remembered how his face told me things before his voice was able to. It felt like that now.

A few moments had passed when I felt Ponyboy slide his hand out of my grip. He hastily rubbed his eyes before weakly getting to his feet.

"Pony?" I asked concerned.

"I think I wanna be alone now."

He looked lifeless as he drug both feet back to his bedroom. I wanted to call after him and make him stay where I could keep an eye on him, but remembered that Pony processed things differently than me, and I had to allow that. I had to give him space and time; something that took almost losing him forever for me to realize.

"Want me to go get him?" Two-Bit offered quietly; his face covered in shock and disappointment over losing his friends.

I shivered while I shook my head; the coldness of the day still rattling my bones. For the first time in my life I didn’t know what to do. For the first time in my life I had no plan. I was lost.

"Cripes, Darry. You’re still a block of ice. Why don’t you jump in the shower? I’ll bet that’ll warm you up."

He sounded just like Sodapop. I cocked an eyebrow at Two-Bit. "You trying to handle me, Keith?"

"You guys are my brothers, Darry. I’m with y’all ‘til the end."

I let a breath out and tried to smile, but it came out as a frown. Even though his words meant everything, it did little to settle what was happening inside of me. I could feel each piece fall from the puzzle that was the whole of me as I fought to keep it together in vain, but the glue that held those pieces together had left for war and I didn’t know how or if I’d be able to tread until he got back.

I unceremoniously untangled myself from the layers of blankets covering me, and slowly hobbled my way to the bathroom to appease my friend. It felt like walking on broken glass; the bottom of my feet were struggling as the feeling and circulation tried to return.

The spray from the shower was hot as I dropped my jeans and pulled off the socks and stepped into the tub. It did little to unfreeze the shock that remained in my chest, but the rest of me began to thaw and feel warm again. I didn’t bother with soap. I wasn’t there to get clean. I just wanted to feel some relief as I stood facing the fall of hot water.

Exhaustion struck as the moist heat penetrated and settled into my body. I’d lost track of how long I’d been standing under the hot spray, but I did consider sitting down in the tub so I could rest my head on my knees and shut my eyes. I noticed the water cool a touch and interrupt my thoughts of sleep. I reached to adjust the temperature when I thought I heard a loud thump. I quickly turned the taps off and heard Two-Bit hollering.

"Darry! Jesus Christ, kid!"

I leaped over the edge of the tub, grabbing for the towel to wrap around my waist while I rushed out of the bathroom. I could hear Two-Bit’s panic coming from the boy’s room. I edged in and found my brother and Two-Bit both on their knees with Two-Bit holding Pony up by the shoulders. There were books and papers and drawings scattered all over the room.

"What the hell happened?" I took a step closer to them and noticed my brother’s color change.

My heart began to pound as I dropped down behind him. There was no movement or sound coming from him, and the look on Two-Bit’s face was sheer panic. He’d never had the experience of watching my brother struggle for air, and just like the day they removed his breathing tube; just like the times Soda and I had to put his feeding tube back in, my brother had stopped breathing.

"He ain’t breathing!" Two-Bit panicked and was on his feet, backing himself up.

I shoved one arm under Pony’s armpit and wrapped it around his chest, while I rested my other hand on his forehead and tipped his head back a bit while I pulled him up against me. The water from the shower I’d abruptly forgotten about was soaking through the back of my brother’s shirt and pajamas, but I held him all the closer while I pressed my face into the side of his.

"Breathe, Pony. C’mon." I whispered, feeling a lot more anxiety when I noticed his right hand go slack, and saw something drop out of it.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe," I kissed his ear after each plea. "C’mon, baby. Don’t you dare. C’mon!" I shook him violently in my arm and felt the weight of his body pull down.

"C’mon, kid! Wake up!" Two-Bit was back on the floor in front of Pony, his hands rubbing up and down Pony’s arms briskly.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis!" My voice was as firm as I could make it. "Goddam you, you listen to me! Breathe, dammit! Breathe!"

There was no cough or gasp, just a faint whirl from the back of my brother’s throat that told me he was breathing again. I cursed Soda silently; I hated when Pony had these episodes, and this one was a big one and it was Soda’s fault. I shifted so that I was sitting on my ass with my legs on either side of my brother’s. My one arm stayed wrapped around him while my other left his forehead to grab the crumpled paper he’d dropped. I placed it on the floor beside my hip and smoothed it open. It was the letter.

_Ponyboy,_

_I’m so sorry kiddo. You deserve so much more than this but I just can’t face you. I’m not strong enough. If you asked me to stay I wouldn’t be able to leave and right now that’s what I need to do. Steve signed up to fight in Vietnam. I know it makes no sense but he needs me Pony. He has nobody else but me so I’m going too. I got to make sure he comes out okay. Try not to blame him Pony. He didn’t see any other way. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone for but I want you to mind Darry. He’s got you until I get back, so listen to him okay?_

_I know this ain’t fair Pony. This is just something I got to do and I hope you can understand. It’s gotta be me. I love you. Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t hate me for this, I just couldn’t take that. Take care of Darry for me until I get back._

_Sodapop Curtis_

I felt my eyes sting as I let out a shakey breath and kissed my brother. It made sense now. Pony found the letter and it set him off. My little brother was nothing if not a survivor, but this; losing Soda was something I knew he couldn’t survive.

His color was taking its time changing back from the frightening greyish-purple to his normal pale pallor, but the breaths I could hear and feel were becoming deeper. I handed the letter to Two-Bit and wrapped both arms tight around Pony hugging him close to me.

"I don’t believe this,” Two-Bit spoke in my thoughts. He looked to be in a daze for a moment, and then snapped out of it. "Should we take him to the hospital? What about that doctor friend?"

I didn’t want to face anyone. There were too many questions that would need to be answered, and I didn’t have any of those answers. I didn’t want to face any of it.

I shook my head at Two-Bit. "I got it. Done this a few times now."

"Scared the bejesus outta me! Christ Almighty!" Two-Bit reached out to pet Pony’s hair. "Goddam kid."

"They all leave."

We both stopped as the raspy whirl of Ponyboy’s voice squeaked between us. Two-Bit looked at me worriedly, shaking his head like he didn’t quite hear what Pony said.

"They all leave. Nobody stays. They all leave me." And he started to cry.

"Pony," My heart broke further as I hugged my brother to me and buried my face into his neck. It was everything I’d feared.

"It’s my fault!" He cried harder, and I was scared we were going to have another episode where he stopped breathing.

"Shhhh…stop that, baby. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault." I breathed harshly into his ear while my arms squeezed him tighter.

"He told me he’d leave when he found out. He said everyone would leave me and I’d be alone."

"C’mon, kid. That don’t sound like somethin’ Soda would say to you." Two-Bit continued to pet Pony’s hair, and I felt a deep cold touch my bones again.

Those words weren’t from Sodapop. They were from Martin Campbell.

"Ponyboy, this isn’t about what He did to you. You know Soda loves you more than anything. Soda’s going so he can protect Steve. It’s about Steve; he needs Soda with him right now. Steve’s our brother too, Pony. As hard as this is gonna be, we gotta let Soda go. We gotta do this for Steve."

I held my brother tight as his sobs hiccupped. "Don’t ever leave me, Darry!"

"Shhhh…enough."

"Promise me, Darry. Don’t leave, ‘kay?"

"Shhhh…I’m not going anywhere, Ponyboy. You know that. I got you. I _got_ you. I promise I’ll never leave you. I got you."

I slowly lifted my head from the crook of his neck and looked on at Two-Bit. The last time I’d seen tears from him was when Dallas Winston and Johnny Cade were buried. He bit his lip, a sad look on his face as he shook his head while running his hand over my brother’s head.

"I ain’t goin’ nowhere either, Pony. You’re my best bud." He cracked a grin before looking at me carefully. "Tell me what you need, Darry."

"Sweat pants. Check my dresser." I said vacantly as my head rested temple to temple with my baby brother’s.

Two-Bit nodded and slowly eased to his feet. Before he made his way through the bedroom doorway, a need I’d never felt before suddenly struck me.

"There’s a bottle of whiskey under the sink in the kitchen. Grab it, would ya?"

I heard Two-Bit tap the door frame before he left me alone with what was left of my blood. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was minutes from making a new best friend; a friend whose sole intention was to take everything away from me.


	27. Twenty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

My head felt heavy with fog as my eyes slowly opened from the soft sounds of my brother. The day has barely started, and it’s already filled with Ponyboy’s guilt and grief. The guilt is something Soda and I have been slaving away to take from him; to show him that everything that’s happened to him is not his fault. The grief is something we’ll both have to live with until Soda comes home safe and sound. There’s nothing I can do as Pony starts to sob again except hold him tighter to me. I can only tell him that I’ll never leave, but I know he doesn’t believe me because he’s right. _Everybody_ _leaves_.

My shoulders and neck pull from the unnatural position I’m in. My head is jacked up against the arm of the sofa while my youngest brother and a pile of blankets are sprawled out on top of me. Somehow between legs and arms and hands holding on for dear life, we’ve managed to fit on the couch, and although my body is paying the price, it’s a small price. I need to figure a way to keep Pony afloat, and I don’t know how to do that without Sodapop. I try to do what he would do, and that’s to stay as close as I can to Pony, but I know it’s not my arms he wants to feel around him. _I_ _can_ _never_ _be_ _what_ _he_ _wants_. I look over to the coffee table, reaching out for that bottle I had Two-Bit fetch for me. I take another drink, emptying the bottle absently, waiting for the numbness to hit me again; hit me permanently.

"You guys warm enough?" Two-Bit peers in from the kitchen and I frown while giving a quick nod.

"What time is it?" I mumble.

"After lunch. Think he’ll be able to eat?"

"Didn’t you have to work today?" I deflect; not wanting to think about how I’m going to get my youngest brother through this. Soda hasn’t been gone a day yet, and the emptiness is palpable.

"Didn’t you?" Two-Bit retorted, and I groaned.

"Fuck!" I cursed myself, rolling my head back. I couldn’t afford to miss work now that I was the only one bringing in a paycheck.

"Don’t worry. You’re lucky; your boss actually sounds like a decent guy. I called in for ya."

"Thanks," I sighed, a little relieved by the fact I didn’t just skip out on work without notice. Mr. Garver was a decent guy and had been more than supportive to me with all the shit I’d been dealing with.

I’m starting to feel the edges of my life begin to blur, and I stare at the ceiling that’s been sheltering me and my brothers our entire lives. I start to feel that nagging void in my chest. I know I’ve got to snap out of it and pull up my socks and be the leader, but I don’t know that I have it in me. I know I’m teetering on that edge, and I’m aware that I could slip at any second. I want sleep to take me, so I don’t have to deal with what’s happening while I’m awake.

"Better take it easy with that shit, or I’ll hafta call in for you tomorrow too." Two-Bit nods to the empty whiskey bottle I’ve set back on the coffee table.

"You tryin’ to handle me, Keith?" I grumble sleepily as my fingers run themselves through my brother’s hair and I close my eyes.

"No, but I know from experience that that shit won’t make things go away. It might make you believe that you don’t care, but it’ll just make things worse in the end. Ponyboy needs you Darry, and Sodapop might be away playing hero in Vietnam with Steve, but I guaran-goddam-tee ya, he still needs ya too."

I nod and start to feel ashamed. _What am I doing?_ I know I’ve crossed a line that I shouldn’t have and thank God Two-Bit’s around to cover my ass and pick up the slack while I’ve spent the morning feeling sorry for myself. I look at the empty bottle on the coffee table and hear Two-Bit clear his throat.

"It’s okay, Superman. It wasn’t even full. How long have we been nursing that ol’ bottle of your dad’s?"

"A while now," I feel a hot tear run down into my hair as I look up at the ceiling again, wondering what dad would do if he knew what Soda had done.

My chest opens up and feels like it’s going to swallow me. I think about my dad, and it becomes clear as day to me. My dad would’ve tied Soda up and locked him in his room until he came to his senses. He would’ve done the same to Steve. _I should’ve done more. I could’ve stopped them. Why didn’t I do more?_ The voices in my head are unrelenting, and I’m not even sure there’s enough whiskey in Tulsa to silence them. I feel Pony stir, and I wrap my arms around him tighter while I close my eyes and pray for the voices to rest as well.

When I start to come to again, I feel a cool hand on my forehead and a thumb rubbing up and down between my eyes. It doesn’t leave or stop when I move my head to stretch my neck, and I notice the weight of my youngest brother isn’t covering me anymore.

"Pony okay, Soda? You got him?" My usual thoughts escape me before my mouth can stop them.

"Your friend is trying to get him to eat. So far it’s not going well."

My eyes open slowly as my stomach flips in disappointment. It wasn’t Sodapop, it was Beth kneeling on the floor by my head. I knew it was hurtful, but I couldn’t help the feeling of not wanting to see her. I didn’t want to answer any of her questions. Weeks had gone by with life playing her cruel hand, and it was just easier to pretend, and I couldn’t do that with her there looking at me; her eyes soft and forgiving. I didn’t want her forgiveness. I wanted her to leave.

"What are you doing here?" My tongue felt thick as I tried to speak, no doubt in part from the Bushmills I managed to finish earlier.

"I came to see that you’re still alive," Beth commented as she grabbed the empty bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and sniffed the opening, making a sour face before turning back to me. "Is this how you’ve decided to spend your days now?"

"What do you want?" I growled, feeling defensive; feeling guilty.

"I just want to know what’s going on. I’ve been calling and calling, and I get nothing. Did something happen that I’m not aware of? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"

"No," I groaned as I slowly sat up and swung my legs the right way off from the couch.

"Then why haven’t you called? What the hell is going on?"

"I don’t wanna talk about it." I mumble sadly as I cover my face in my hands; leaning forward to rest elbows on knees.

"Yeah, well that’s too damned bad now, isn’t it? Because I’m here, and I’m in this too, so start talking. What happened to Pony?" Beth is angry with me, but it doesn’t deter her concern for my brother and a big part of me falls even deeper for her than I know I already have.

"Where is he?" My initial reaction is to always worry; always protect. Beth reaches out with a steady hand and puts it firmly on my shoulder while she takes a seat beside me.

"He’s a mess in the kitchen. He won’t talk to me and he won’t eat. Darry, what happened? He looks about as good as you do right now. Did something happen to him? Did somebody hurt him again?"

I roll my eyes before they close and take a deep breath; my lungs stumbling over the air I’m breathing. This is what I don’t want. I don’t want to talk about what happened. If I don’t talk about it, then I can just pretend like this all isn’t happening.

"Darry, what’s going on?" She pushed again, her eyes steady and determined.

"I can’t do this. I can’t do this with him in the next room; I gotta think of him." I slowly stood from the couch, Beth’s hand still resting on my shoulder as she stood up too.

"Okay. Darry, it’s okay. I understand. Let me help and we’ll talk about it later." Her eyes softened as she backed down. I nod. _Thank you_.

Of course, she understood. She’d seen just about everything a person could see just in her job alone. Sodapop understood everything too. You could be yourself around him; faults bleeding forth and completely exposed and he never judged. He’d just love you even more. No wonder our youngest brother worshipped him. I was too busy worrying and nitpicking to take the time to understand. _How am I going to be enough?_

Her hand slipped off my shoulder and grabbed my own hand as she led the way into the kitchen. I followed, not fully appreciating her effort to help me through the sense of loss. I just wanted to fetch my brother and hide my head under a pillow, but the thought seemed to disappear when I looked at Pony and Two-Bit sitting at the table. I quickly broke free of Beth’s hold, and moved to sit; pushing my seat next to my brother’s.

"Pony?" My hand reached out to pet his head.

He looked as lost as I felt. He was staring off; his eyes not focused but very bloodshot. A plate of supper was in front of him waiting to be eaten, but Pony wasn’t there. I shuffled even closer to him; pulling my chair right up beside his so I could stretch my arm out and wrap it around him. He didn’t say anything. He only leaned his head against my shoulder.

"You’re gonna have to eat, Pone." I let one hand bury itself in his hair while the other inspected the food on his plate. Bacon, toast, and a couple of eggs; sunny side up. "Who cooked?" I looked over at Two-Bit.

"Supernurse," Two-Bit nodded his head towards Beth while he started eating his share.

"You both need to eat. What can I make for you, Darry?"

"I can eat this, but Pony likes his eggs hard. Do you mind?" I looked up at Beth sincerely, and her face softened into a smile.

"One or two?" Her voice was gentle.

"How ‘bout we try one, okay little buddy?" I lean my forehead against his, but he doesn’t respond. _How_ _cold you do this to him, Soda?_

I grab a triangle of toast and hold it up for him, but he doesn’t react in the least. I close my eyes and think back to not so very long ago with the three of us at the table with Pony not eating, and I hold Sodapop close in my memory. _I need you right now, goddammit! Why did you do this to us?_

"We gotta be strong, Ponyboy." I’m whispering to him and myself because I know there’s nothing else we can do at this point. There was no choice left in the matter since Sodapop took that choice away.

"We gotta be strong so we can get through this. That means you gotta eat, Pony." I move the toast closer to his hand, but Pony is still phased out and staring off in a daze. I drop the toast back on the plate and rub the crumbs and butter off on the leg of my sweat pants. Both arms are now wrapped around him.

I feel the despair float to the surface, because I understand Pony, maybe for the first time in my life. He’s all I have left right now while Sodapop is gone, and I almost lost him once; I can’t do it again. And then Pony’s earlier plea comes back to me.

"Don’t leave me, Ponyboy because I need you too. You gotta promise not to leave me." _I need you._

My face is buried in his hair and I take a deep breath, recalling the months he’d been taken away and then the months he’d spent in the hospital after and how desperate I’d felt the entire time. _Get it together. You have to be strong for him._ I feel my brother slowly shift in my arms, his head tilts and he’s now looking at me worriedly; his crooked hand moving up to rest against my chest.

I try to smile but I don’t know if it’s convincing enough, so I just plant a sloppy, over-enthusiastic kiss on his forehead and it works, if only a little bit. Pony let’s out a small laugh before looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

"Want another one?" I threaten with as much of a grin as I can muster up, and he manages to blush while shaking his head at me.

"Too bad," I whisper as I pucker up and lay another ridiculously loud kiss on my brother’s forehead while I reach over to his plate and grab a slice of bacon. I hold it out for him, and he takes it slowly with his left hand and grins back at me.

Beth comes to the table holding the pan with Pony’s egg, and dishes it out carefully while she’s watching the both of us. "There you are, honey." Her voice is soft, and Pony blushes again before looking at me.

"C’mon, kiddo. Eat up." I give my brother a squeeze, and he takes that piece of bacon and slowly takes a bite out of it. I look up at Beth, and nod in appreciation. She reaches out and brushes her hand across my cheek before turning back to the stove.

Pony doesn’t eat everything, but he’s eaten what he can, and it’s good enough for the time being. We’re both dealing with Steve and particularly Soda’s absence in our own ways, and it’ll take time to adjust. It’s just the first day, and I’m already wondering how I’m going to pull us through on my own.

* * *

"Where we bunkin’ tonight, kiddo?"

I’m quiet as I stand behind him at the sink, my hands rubbing his shoulders. He’s helped me with the dishes, while Two-Bit’s outside on the porch having a smoke, and Beth is finishing up her own supper at the table. The gang all knew about Pony’s issues with sleeping alone since our parents passed, but even since everything with Campbell, Pony was still embarrassed by the fact that he can’t sleep alone.

Pony shrugs and looks warily over his shoulder to see Beth at the table.

"It’s okay, she didn’t hear." My voice rasps lower, and I lean over so my chin rests on his shoulder.

"Ain’t she sleeping over?" My little brother’s face flushes slightly as he looks back at the sink.

"I don’t know; we haven’t talked yet, little buddy. You don’t need to worry; we got room for everyone, it’s okay." My arms wrap around him.

"Bu…but won’t you wanna sleep with her?" When he looks at me, his face is a mixture of embarrassment and misery.

"You always come first, Pony. You need to know that." I’m holding him tight, but he stays quiet.

I suddenly feel a gentle hand on my back, and my head turns as Beth reaches passed me to set her dishes in the sink. She looks from me to Pony, and lets her free hand run across my brother’s face with a soft smile. Pony turns an interesting shade of red, and I find myself grinning. Until she looks at me. She’s worried; the look on her face is clear. It’s time to talk. I take an unsteady breath.

"Think you can finish up, Pony?" I’m watching my brother trying to hide the fact that he’s beet red, and he nods quickly. "Alright, when you’re done, get yourself ready for bed. Come and get me when you’re ready. We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements then, okay?” 

Pony nods shyly, and I can’t help but hug him from behind. I don’t want to let go of him for a couple of reasons. One, I feel like he’s going to disappear. I know it makes no sense, but with everything happening I’m terrified to take my eyes off my brother. His life’s been nothing but a living hell since the death of our parents, and I keep waiting for him to slip through my fingers like the time that’s flown by. Two, Beth needs to know why I’ve been out of touch with her, and even though I know that I owe her an explanation, I don’t know if I can talk about it without breaking down. I can’t afford to break down when Pony’s barely holding it together. He needs me to be strong until we get Soda back.

I nod at Beth hesitantly, and then to the hallway that goes to the bedrooms. She deserves so much more than the pile of misery I’m about to lay on her lap, and I wish again that she wasn’t there. _She deserves better than what I can give her._ I owe her an explanation as to why I’ve been avoiding her, and I owe it to her to have no interruptions. She leads the way to my room, probably having the same thoughts that I’m having.

I shut my bedroom door behind me; my chest and my gut churning, and turn slowly to face Beth. She looks at me expectantly and I don’t even know what to say to her or how to start. I think back to the months we’ve spent together and know deep down that I had no right to start anything with her when I knew I couldn’t give her what she deserved.

"What is going on here? You and Ponyboy look like you’ve been to a funeral? What happened?” She looks at me worriedly.

"Soda left for training today. He’s going to Vietnam." The words are like a noose wrapped around my neck, and as soon as they left my mouth, the levee broke.

My hands tremble as I bring them up to cover my face. I’m hanging on by a thread, and I can feel it stretching tight, getting ready to snap. I’m trying to be as steady as I can, but I wasn’t even strong enough to make Sodapop stay.

"No. I don’t believe that. He said he wasn’t going to do that. He said he wouldn’t leave you and Ponyboy."

The silence becomes deafening as I slowly drop my hands from my face to look at Beth. The worry on her face does nothing to settle the growing confusion that I’m sure is covering my face.

"What?" My eyes bore through her. "What are you talking about ‘he said he wasn’t gonna do that’?"

"I…he…" Beth looked at me, suddenly looking terrified rather than worried.

"You _knew_?"

My confusion morphed into a sudden rage, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. It was clear over the passing months that Sodapop’s secrets ran deep and silent, but the fact that Beth knew about this one and didn’t say anything to me was beyond betrayal. I suddenly felt like a wild animal who’s been kept in a cage; I start to pace the length of my bedroom, not knowing if I can manage an ounce of calm. _I can’t breathe. Soda, you fucking asshole!_

"Darry, I swear it’s not like that at all. He mentioned the draft and something about his friend going. Him and Greg discussed…"

" _GREG_?"

I felt betrayed by everyone, and suddenly realized how deep my brother’s worship was for the good Doctor Allain. After believing that Ponyboy held the key to all of Sodapop’s secrets, I was horrified to find out that wasn’t true. Soda had made his plans for the future with the advice of the man I thought had my family’s best interest at heart. Now it seemed as though there were other motives.

"Darry, you need to calm down and listen. Soda was talking about enlisting at work, and trust me, Greg was dead set against it. I thought he talked him out of it, I was sure of…"

"Why the _fuck_ didn’t you tell me before now?" I glared at Beth.

"Well, you haven’t exactly been available, now have you?" Beth bit back. It stung, but it was too late. _My brother is gone. It’s my fault. Why couldn’t he come to me?_

"Get the fuck out of my house." I was seething.

"What?"

I walked to the bedroom door and opened it. I didn’t look at her as I stood there holding it open, waiting for her to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" Her eyes started to tear.

"Thank your doctor friend for me. Thanks to the two of you, my brother’ll probably get his head blown off."

"Darry, I swear I thought…" She tried, but I’d already unraveled.

"I COULD’VE STOPPED HIM! DON’T YOU GET IT?" _If I had more time. If he would’ve told me his secrets._ "You had no right to keep this from me. I want you to go."

I didn’t watch as she left. I stared at the ceiling that once made me feel safe. Now it was just a reminder that life was cruel. I heard her voice briefly as she talked to Two-Bit; no doubt explaining to him that she wasn’t staying. I stood there while I was still holding the knob to the bedroom door, wondering what had just happened. It didn’t take long from the time Beth had left the house crying, to when Two-Bit was walking cautiously to where I was.

"You alright, Darry?”

I shook my head.


	28. Twenty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.

"Darry, you okay?"

I can't sleep, and it's more to do with my guilty conscience than the fact that I'm feeling squashed in Ponyboy and Sodapop's bed.

It's not as though I hadn't had a number of restful sleeps on their too-soft mattress, with too many blankets and sheets in forever disarray because neither one of them ever made their bed. It's not like I wasn't now used to my youngest brother tucked in beside me as close as he could get; most nights that's exactly where I'd find him with Sodapop squashed in behind or on top of him. Tonight my mind is my enemy.

"I'm okay," I lie to my brother because God and everyone knows he's had to deal with enough in his fifteen years on this planet. "Get some sleep."

All I can think about is Sodapop. My whole life has been consumed with keeping him and Ponyboy safe and out of trouble. I've been consumed with keeping the three of us together; it's what mom and dad would've wanted. It's what they would've expected of me. _What was I supposed to do?_

I try to pinpoint the exact moment I messed up; try to find the thing I did or said that made Soda decide it was better to be a stranger and hide from me than to talk to me and let me help him figure things out. I'd always believed Sodapop wasn't just my brother, but my best friend too and goddam it, it hurt like hell to have him walk out on me and Ponyboy the way he did. _Why couldn't you just talk to me?_

_Because you would've made me stay._

His voice is as clear as day in my mind, and I feel my throat ache as I clench my eyes closed, and deny any tears passage. _If only I knew sooner. Things could be different._ But there's no way to turn the clock back and do this day over again. I'm stuck with the way things are, and I can hardly stand myself.

"You had a fight with Beth." It was more a statement from Pony than a question.

"How do you know?" I sniffed.

"I heard you yell. She was crying." Pony whispered timidly. "Why are you mad at her?"

"It's nothing, Pony," I lie to my brother because telling him the truth about Sodapop would be too much for him to take. "You need to get some sleep."

"I can't. He's not here." Pony's voice trembles and in seconds he's reduced to tears.

My eyes sting when they betray me and let my tears fall anyways as I roll over to my side and watch Pony try to stop his own crying. His face strains with the effort, but his eyes work against him too.

"Hey, shhhh…" I reach my hand out and start to pet his hair. "I'm here, Pony and I'm not goin' anywhere. I got you."

My words don't seem to hold any real weight. I know that I'm not the brother he wants next to him; my reassurances aren't the ones he needs. But he rolls into me anyway, and curls that broken wing of his beneath my arm as he buries his face in my shoulder.

"Don't be mad at Beth. Say you're sorry." I hear him cry, and the extra guilt wraps around my stomach and squeezes so hard I can barely breathe.

"Shhhh…" is all I can manage while I'm picturing the way I'd went off on her. I'd made her cry.

"You gotta apologize, Darry. You love her and then yelled and made her go. What if…"

"Okay, okay. I will." I broke off my brother's lecture and rolled my eyes.

I didn't know if she'd ever forgive me after the way I'd reacted. I felt so much regret for the way I blew up, but still felt quite strongly that she should've said something to me early on. Then I remembered; I was so wrapped up in Soda's lies, that I'd been avoiding her. _Can't you do anything right?_

"It's not your fault, Darry." Pony whispered; reading my mind like Sodapop so very often did. "Just tell her you're sorry and you're just sad about Sodapop."

Life according to my baby brother. Apologize. Make it better. Tell her you're sad. Don't be mad. After everything done to him, Pony stayed so simple and innocent. He spoke from his heart and didn't fuck things up with so much thinking.

"You're somethin' else, y'know that?" I whispered wholeheartedly as I cupped the back of his head to my shoulder and started rubbing his hair with my fingertips. "Let's get some sleep. We'll figure it all out tomorrow."

* * *

Friends. I'd been fortunate in my life to have a handful. Not the guys you shake hands with in passing, or buddies you challenge and support on the football field. I'm talking real friends. The kind you fight for; die for. The kind that would take a bullet for you, go to jail for you, or hide your brother out for a week in some abandoned church out in the middle of nowhere just to keep him out of trouble.

I'd thought about the impact these people had on my life. The support I'd always felt when I couldn't be in three places at the same damned time even before mom and dad died. I'd felt a comfort and confidence thanks to the likes of Dallas Winston, Johnny Cade, Two-Bit Mathews, and even Steve Randal because I knew they had my back when it came to Ponyboy and Soda. Now of all those friends, one had gone off to war, two were dead, and one was standing next to me in my kitchen while I went over the rules of the house before I had to leave for work.

"Don't let him sleep past ten. He's gotta take the red medicine for his seizures. He knows how much. It makes him pretty groggy after but try and keep him awake until noon if you can. He'll be okay by then if it's gonna be a good day. If not, get him to lay on the couch. You can keep an eye on him."

I sighed, suddenly as nervous about leaving Pony as I was when we'd brought him back from the hospital. I trusted Two-Bit with my life and with my brother's life, but I didn't know how Soda's leaving was going to effect Pony's condition.

"Numbers," I pointed to my work number taped to the front of the ice box. "His school work is on the table. You know the rest."

Two-Bit tried to smile, but for the first time I could remember, he wasn't able. He just looked at me and rubbed my shoulder after giving it a squeeze.

"Don't worry about it. He's safe." He followed me to the door, his hands jammed in his jeans pockets while I was busy grabbing my boots and my tool belt.

"You sure you're okay with this? what about your work?"

"Darry, take off. Dont worry about that shit; I got it covered." Then he smiled with an air of cockiness. "The kid loves me. We're good."

* * *

I'm not sitting for more than a few minutes when a familiar smile heads my way. I look her up and down, recognizing her face, but the name eludes me. I'm no innocent, but I've never been at my best when it came to girls and the chase. My mind is always boiling over with the mundane details of life. When I was young, it was school. In high school, it was football and keeping my grades up to earn a scholarship. When mom and dad died, it was focused on keeping my brothers out of trouble and together. I smile back at the waitress.

..." _You're such a square. Loosen up a bit."_

_I roll my head back as I sigh in annoyance. Sodapop's grinning in front of me, tying my tie while I stand there at the mercy of his teasing. It's Valentine's Day, with a big dance at school and I'm a bundle of nerves because the head cheerleader agreed to go out with me. My hands are clammy, and my stomach is rolling and I'm ready to call what's-her-name to cancel the whole thing so I can just stay home and watch tv with dad, or do homework._

" _Peggy," Soda says out of the blue while he's still trying to fix my tie._

" _Wha?" I look at him indignantly._

" _Her name. It's Peggy, numbnuts." Soda rolls his eyes._

" _I thought it was Margaret." I mumble as I reach for my tie. Soda slaps my hand away and gives me a pointed look._

" _Uh huh. What's wrong with you, anyways? Why so nervous? She's been wanting to go out with you since the start of the year." Soda frowns as he fixes what I've just wrecked._

" _How the hell do you know that?" I look at my younger brother, but he just gives me a look like I've just spouted off the dumbest comment he's ever heard._

" _Girls talk. I listen." He grins._

" _You're so full of shit, your eyes are brown." I grin, and Soda breaks out in laughter._

" _I took her best friend out." He shrugs nonchalantly, like its normal for a fifteen year old to be taking out high school seniors._

" _Jesus Christ, Soda. Did you pop that cherry of yours when you were ten?" I half-worried, half-teased, but he just shook his head at me._

_I may have been the eldest Curtis brother, but let me tell you, that didn't stop girls from chasing my younger brother around first. Dad said mom was a looker, and Soda took after her. There was no denying it, Sodapop drew the girls to him like honey would draw flies. I knew it had a lot to do with his movie star looks, but Sodapop was so much more than a handsome face. He was gentle and kind, funny as hell, and would do anything it took to protect his friends and his family._

" _You should talk. Y'know you'd get more action if you'd get your head outta your ass once in awhile."_

_Soda stepped back and admired his handiwork before holding me by my arms and turning me to face the mirror behind the sink. I felt his hand as it traveled across the back of my jacket, brushing off who knows what. I started to realize then, that my younger brother took as much care for me as I ever did him._

" _Thanks, Soda. Where'd you learn how to tie a tie anyways?"_

" _Mom," Soda shrugged before resting his chin on my shoulder and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "You look real handsome, Darry. Go show mom; she's gonna lose her mind."_

" _Yeah," I felt myself blush awkwardly from Soda's compliment and avoided looking at myself in the mirror._

_I smoothed out the front of my jacket and pants before looking back in the mirror with a sigh. Soda had left me alone with my thoughts, and after I'd swallowed down what was left of my nausea, I turned around to head for the living room to face mom's hysterical gushing._

" _Psst…Darry?"_

_I was half-way to the living room when Sodapop tugged lightly on the back of my suit. I turned around to find him with his hand held out closed, ready to pass something to me. I held an open hand out, and glared at him when he dropped a condom in its package in the palm of my hand._

" _Soda!" I hissed, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks._

" _Remember, Darry. Big or small, thick or thin, Vaseline will get it in!"..._

"Today's my lucky day," she slides beside me in my booth at the back of the bar, and sets two shots in front of me. "Crown, if I remember right. Where ya been, sweetheart? I keep hoping to see your face, but it's been awhile."

Her hand slides over my thigh and I don't care enough to move her hand away. I eye the drink before I reach for it and bring it up to my lips. I'm hoping the burn from the alcohol is enough to cleanse me of everything I haven't done right in my life. I'm hoping it'll help me forget everything like I've forgotten her name.


	29. Twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

_I shut the door behind me and sat heavily on what was now my bed in the room I inherited from my now deceased parents. I rubbed at the vein pulsing at my forehead, exhausted and frustrated after what had to have been the third argument I’d gotten into with Ponyboy in less than four hours._

_It’s Friday night, and I’m tired after busting my nuts working two jobs all week, and he’s whining at me when I ask him to get a head start on his homework for the weekend. Soda’s out, leaving me alone to deal with our brother, who it seems overnight has turned from a docile, good-natured kid into a moody pre-pubescent jerk I want to strangle half of the time._

_I don’t remember my parents having this much trouble with Pony, but then again I’d been busy with my own life, working and trying to scrounge up enough money to save for college before they’d been killed. After the initial shock of them being gone had worn off, I didn’t even know Pony anymore. Someone had snatched my once sweet little brother, and replaced him with a one-eyed monster I had to work twice as hard to keep in check. Thank God I had Sodapop to buffer the edges between us that always seemed to scratch and scrape together the wrong way._

_"Darry?"_

_Pony knocked softly on the bedroom door, and I should’ve let him in, but I was tired from the new life I was now leading, and still sore from the fight he always seemed to put up every time I tried to take care of him. It was as though he was fighting me just for the sake of fighting, and at that point I just didn’t have it in me anymore._

_"Not now, Pone. We’ll talk about it tomorrow." I brushed him off, wanting the tension between us to ebb for just once while I continued to rub my fingers into my scalp to ease the tension in my body._

_It was quiet for a moment when I heard him choke out an "okay", and I’d felt even worse. I laid back on the bed sideways and closed my eyes, rehashing every shit moment of the week. Work was work, and I knew what I was dealing with when I would head out every day, but when I got home I never knew what shit I’d land myself into with my youngest brother._

_I don’t really know how long I’d been laying there avoiding the rest of the house in a last-ditch effort to keep the peace with Pony, when I heard the window slide across its cheap aluminum frame and a breeze kissed against my face._

_I rolled my head back, craning my neck as I saw two hands hold the sill before the stifled giggles of Sodapop and Steve Randal started to fill the room. I rolled over lazily with my hand holding the weight of my head while I watched on as Steve tried to unsuccessfully hoist my brother up enough that he could sneak through._

_"Stevie!"_

_I could hear Sodapop laughing hysterically as Steve lost his grip, and the night was filled with the sound of the two of them hitting the ground. I rolled out of bed, and headed for the window. The two of them were rolling around in the dirt like a couple of nuts._

_"Soda, what the hell?" I rolled my eyes while Soda and Steve were trying to control their laughter._

_"Darry!" Soda chuckles and points at me while he struggles to find his feet, shoving Steve away. "S’okay, buddy. Darry’ll sneak me in."_

_"Soda get your ass in here ‘fore the neighbours call the cops!" I yell, completely annoyed by my brother’s display._

_Soda lifts his finger to his mouth to shush me, and I give him a look that promises him an ass whoopin’ before I move to slam the window closed._

_"No!" Soda takes a run for the window with his hands out and open, and I stop to take a look at him._

_He motions for Steve, and I grumble and grab my brother by the upper arms to haul him in after Steve manages to be steady enough to give Soda’s dumb ass a boost. I yank my brother in, and shut the window on Steve before either one of them can say anything._

_"You got a sudden aversion to using the door?"_

_"You gotta be a virgin to what?" Soda looks up at me while he wobbles on his feet, and I notice the glazed dopey look of his eyes._

_"You drunk?" I grab Soda’s chin to get a better look at him, and he tumbles forward laughing; clawing at my shirt to stay upright while his face is squashed into my chest._

_"Great," I growl as my brother tries to compose himself, suddenly realizing that I’m not exactly pleased to have my sixteen year old brother come home shitfaced._

_"It’s not enough I gotta deal with your stubborn as a mule brother, but now I gotta deal with this from you?"_

_"Shhhh…" Soda stumbles back a step and tries to look at me. I’m not sure how many of me he’s actually seeing. "He awake?"_

_"I dunno, why?" I ask while Soda’s happy-go-lucky demeanour changes in a flash._

_"I don’t want him to see me like this." My brother suddenly looks ashamed, and I know something’s wrong._

_"What’s goin’ on, little man? This ain’t like you." And it wasn’t. Soda never drank. He’d seen the effects alcohol had all over our side of town._

_"Can I crash in here?" Soda looks solemn as he brushes his hand down his face, and lets an exhausted breath out._

_"You puke in my bed, so help me God…" I start, but stop short when my brother’s eyes well up, and he chokes out a sob._

_I frown in spite of myself, but don’t say anything. I figure the booze has set his emotions on high, but Soda looks like a lost little boy without a single clue, doing what he can to avoid my stare. It’s not until I brush his shirt off his shoulders that he looks back at me and then lifts his arms up so I can tug his T-shirt up and over his head._

_He hides his face in the crook of my neck, and I easily let go of my anger when he lets himself have that cry he needs. He’s sixteen with no parents; forced to grow up way too fast so that I don’t have to handle everything on my own. It’s a wonder this night hasn’t happened sooner. All I can do is wrap my arms around him until the sobbing stops._

_"You smell like dad." He mumbles into my neck and I feel him kiss me, and I realize what this is all about._

_"Awe, Pepsi. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry." I whisper in his hair as I squeeze him tighter to me._

_"I miss them so much, Darry. I just needed to forget for a bit. I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again. Don’t tell Pony, ‘kay? Cover for me?"_

_That was when I realized grief was like living two lives. One life you live pretending that everything is okay. The other is where inside your heart is screaming in pain._

_"I got ya, little buddy. I won’t tell him nothin’."_

_We’d made a pact to be a strong and united front that our youngest brother could count on. I’d buried my emotions along with my parents, but Sodapop was special. He cared for people more deeply than anyone I knew, and shit got to him sometimes. He didn’t want Pony to see him fall apart; he knew it would scare him._

_I felt Soda start to relax into me; his face is still pressed into my neck while his breathing deepened. His arms loosened their hold and slipped down to hold onto my belt. I moved my hands up to cup the back of my brother’s head as I cautiously took half a step backwards to gauge where he was at._

_"How are we?" I searched his eyes until he met my gaze._

_"I’m not so think as you drunk I am." Soda smiled, and I just rolled my eyes and shook my head._

_"Get in bed, ding-a-ling." I grinned back at him and turned around for the door to grab him some water and aspirin that I knew he’d need sooner or later._

_Darkness has swallowed the house. The lights are off, and as far as I can tell Ponyboy is in his room sound asleep. I make my way for the kitchen to quickly grab a glass before turning back for the bathroom. My eyes squint slightly against the light as I flick the switch on the wall. I open the medicine cabinet, grabbing the bottle of aspirin while I turn the sink on to fill the glass with water._

_"Why’s Soda sleeping in your room?"_

_My youngest brother is bleary eyed and scratching his head, wanting answers from me while giving me a heart attack for how quiet he is on his feet._

_"Cripes, Pony. You need to wear a bell! Don’t sneak up on me like that." I gripe, but immediately feel bad for it._

_He’s still upset about me getting on him earlier, and I feel like shit. Both of my brothers are suffering the loss of mom and dad in their own way and I havent exactly been Mr. Sensitive about it._

_"I’m sorry," he frowns and turns to leave me in the bathroom._

_"He’s sick, is all." I say maybe a little too quickly, but Pony turns around with that worried look on his face and I almost regret saying anything._

_"He okay? Can I do anothing? I don’t mind if he’s sick in our room. I can take care of him."_

_Pony would do anything for Sodapop; even lay in a potential bed of his vomit. Maybe I should’ve let Pony see his brother for what he was—a scared sixteen year old kid, but when mom and dad died we decided to protect him instead._

_"He don’t want you getting sick, Pony. That’s all." I explain gently, and Pony gives me a small smile. "Get some sleep."_

_Pony nods and slips away back into his room, and I make my way for mine._

_The water and pills go on the nightstand next to Soda and I strip down to my underwear before climbing into bed next to him. It’s quiet and I figure Soda’s passed out, but I know my brother well and it doesn’t surprise me to hear his voice._

_"What happened tonight?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"You and Pony have another go-round?"_

_"More like twenty," I frown._

_"Homework?" Soda knows Pony better than mom and dad even did._

_"You got it."_

_"He’s wicked smart, Darry. You gotta ease up sometimes. It’s Friday…"_

_"I know it’s Friday. And tomorrow’s Saturday and he’s gonna be on my back to let him hang out with Johnny or Two-Bit, and then he’ll be griping about how much homework he has on Sunday. I just asked that he get a leg-up on it. I didn’t expect him to do it all."_

_"I know, Darry. He’s hurtin’ though and he just needs you to be gentle sometimes."_

_I sigh, knowing Sodapop is right. I’ve been losing my patience too easily with Ponyboy, but I’ll do everything it takes to get him the fuck out of the East side, and out of Tulsa. He’s too good for this place. He’s too good for any of us and I want him to make something of himself._

_"I worry about him, Soda. I love him, y’know? I just don’t want him getting’ caught in something that’ll make him lose his focus. He’s different. He don’t belong here."_

_"I know what you’re sayin’ Darry, but he’s thirteen. He’s a baby; just give him time."_

_"You get drunk again, I’m tellin’ him you called him that." I threaten, but Soda just huffs a quick laugh._

_"Don’t you dare! He’ll kill me!" Soda’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight that’s peering through the window. I don’t make him any promises._

_"Get some shut-eye. Mornin’ll be here before we know it." I feel better after talking to Soda. He always manages to ground me; remind me that I’m not alone_.

But now I am alone as I clutch onto our baby brother, who’s now had everything taken away from him. His past and future mutilated by a sadistic monster, and the one person whom he loves more than anything; the only one that can keep his nightmares at bay, is gone.

The nightmares have come back with a vengeance, and I can’t even begin to know what to do to make them go away. Our lives have continually been turned upside down and I don’t have the answers anymore. I can’t bring myself to think about it anymore. All I want is a drink. When he finally settles, I sneak off to the kitchen sink and find the new bottle. I crack it open.

* * *

It’s been eight weeks since Soda left, and one day bleeds into the next. The only solace in being dirt poor, is that it’s easy to just drift through the mundane routines of life. Shit, shower, shave. Work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

I only have time for one drink with Wendy before heading home after work. It’s not enough, but I have the help I need waiting for me at home. She’s disappointed, and I tell her how sorry I am, but inside I really don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck about anything anymore, but I’m only lying to myself hoping one day it’ll come true.

I trudge up the steps to the porch, and see the pile of paper hanging half-hazard out of the mailbox, and I realize I haven’t even checked the mail in the last week.

The boots and tool belt come off at the door. The lunchbox ends up on the counter in the kitchen. I take a deep breath and hug my baby brother close to me when he gets up from his school work to see how my day was.

"Same ‘ol, little buddy. How was your day?" I ask him while I toss the pile of envelopes onto the table, and my heart gives a flip when I notice familiar writing on one of them.

"S’okay, I guess." His voice is muffled with his face smooshed into my chest.

I gently pull away from him and nod over to the table where the letter is shining up at us like a silver dollar. Pony’s eyes go wide before he looks back at me to make sure that what he’s seeing is real.

"Go on and open it." I nudge him, but he seems to recoil at the last second, and nervously grabs for my hand.

"You read it, Darry." Pony whispers before he sits down at the table and stares at the envelope.

I reach down to cup Pony’s head with my one hand, while I grab my chair and push it up against Pony’s with the other. I tentatively reach out for the letter, and very carefully open it with shaky hands while my brother curls up against me. My voice trembles as I read the letter out loud.

_  
Darry and Ponyboy,_

_Gosh you two. I don’t even know where to start except I’m sorry it’s taken this long to send word. Things sure are different here and there just hasn’t been any time in one day to tell you all the things I want to tell you. They mean business here and don’t put up with much. One guy got belted by the sarg just for talking out of turn. Don’t worry Darry. It wasn’t me, besides I’m used to living with a ball breaker._

_The food here ain’t much to brag about, but after running and training all day I won’t complain. It’s a lot of hard work. Maybe more than I thought it would be but I guess that’s a good thing. I’m getting to be a pretty good runner Pony. They have us running every day and I always think of you. I want you to know that. I don’t know how long before we’re shipped off but I’ll try to send word before that happens._

_I really need you guys not to worry about me. I’m okay and Steve is too and you should see the two of us. Nobody would ever believe we’re a couple of greasers from the wrong side of town. I think this army stuff fits Steve pretty good, but I think I’d rather still be at home bugging the piss out of you two. It’s only temporary. That’s what I tell myself anyways. You need to think that way too._

_I miss you guys something awful. Makes me realize everything I was taking for granted. It makes me ashamed about how I left you two and I hope that one day you’ll forgive me. When I get settled in I want you to write me as much as you can stand it and let me know what’s going on. Make sure you say hi to Two-Bit for me. I love you. I love you so much._

_Sodapop Curtis_


	30. Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

One of the things I was dreading finally came to pass; having to leave Ponyboy alone at home while I spent most of my time working. Two-Bit of course, was there as much as he was able, but he had his own job that he needed to be at which meant Pony was spending more and more time by himself. I knew it meant a lot for Pony; he hated for anyone to treat him like he was made of glass, but with Sodapop gone, it just added to the guilt I was already feeling. It was my job to take care of him. It was my job to take care of them both, and I failed.

I can hear him as soon as I’m through the front door. His breathing is laboured as air rails through his lungs and out his mouth. I drop my lunchbox and tool belt at the door but don’t bother with my boots as I hurry into the kitchen. Pony’s struggling with a pot of spaghetti that he’s trying to drain in the colander that’s laying in the sink. His left arm trembles violently, and I stand in shock when I realize there’s more to it than the seizures and the brain injury plaguing him. The dim light above the sink both shines and shadows how badly he’s coping with our new life. I watch him fight with the heavy pot and realize it’s unlikely my brother weighs much more than a hundred pounds.

"Whoa, little buddy. Take it easy."

My hands find his as I stand behind him and help him with the weight of the full pot. His left arm gives out and falls awkwardly at his side, but his right hand holds onto the handle while we both dump the pasta into the colander.

"I can do it!" His voice is more raspy than usual, and my hand moves to his forehead on its own to check for a fever. He doesn’t sound right to me.

"What’s goin’ on? You feel okay, Pony?" I stare down at him, but he manages to wiggle away from me.

"Stop it, I’m not a baby!" He wheezes, but the pout he has going on reminds me exactly of a baby, and I huff out a laugh which only earns me a dirty look.

"Fine. You’re not a baby. Got it." My hands shoot up in surrender. "Why are your shorts in a knot? I was just tryin’ to help. You never barked at Sodapop when _he_ tried to help you."

It seemed petty, but not untrue, even though I was sorry for my words as soon as they jumped out of my mouth. The frustration and loss of Sodapop has us both resenting life and the fact that nothing we’ve been doing has been able to fill his place. There’s a black hole of nothingness that seems to eclipse everything nowadays.

Pony’s fingers are digging into his eyes when he turns around. _Now_ he’s ready. This time he wants my hand to curl around the back of his neck while I pull him into me. This time it’s okay that I’m holding him while he cries like he does everyday because he wants his brother home. I think back to that week Johnny and Pony had run away and think about when I was doing this very same thing every night with Sodapop. I can’t help the short laugh that escapes.

"What’s so funny?" Pony’s voice is almost lost in my shirt where his face is pressed.

"You and your brother. Two peas in a pod." I smile fondly while I rest my cheek on the top of Pony’s head.

"We are?" Pony bends his neck back so he can look up at me.

I nod at him while I try to ignore the burn that’s starting in my eyes. I want to bawl right along with him; I miss Sodapop so bad. But I know it won’t change anything. It won’t do anything to make things any better and most likely would only set Ponyboy off in a fit of seizures or breath holding, and he was already looking more than haggard.

I look over to the stove where a pot of what I figure is spaghetti sauce is bubbling, and motion towards it. Ponyboy quickly unravels himself from me to tend to the pot, while I turn back to the sink to make sure the spaghetti has completely drained. I was thankful for the sudden distraction.

"I didn’t burn it this time!" Ponyboy looks on at the sauce triumphantly.

Complete absence has put most of the cooking on Ponyboy’s shoulders, and although he seemed almost excited about the responsibility, a lot of our suppers hadn’t turned out exactly edible. It never bothered me; Pony tried so hard and put everything he had into making sure there was something to eat when I got home at night. Besides, having to swallow some of Sodapop’s creative concoctions managed to toughen me up when it came to rotten cooking. It brought a genuine smile to my face to see my little brother so proud of himself for not wrecking another meal.

"Good job, kiddo." I toss the drained pasta back into the pot and carry it to the stove. "We can dish out here. Lemme kick my boots off."

"’Kay," Pony turned the burner off from the stove while I headed to the front door to kick off my boots and bring my lunchbox into the kitchen to dump on the counter. I head to the sink to wash up.

I turn to grab the tea towel off the oven handle to dry my hands and watch Pony’s left arm and hand shake while he isn’t even using them for anything. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I watch quietly, remembering not that long ago when my brother was someone altogether different. He was an honour student and a track star. He could run; hell, he could walk. He was anything but ordinary, but he was able to live a normal life. Two long months with Martin Campbell had almost been the death of him and I never imagined anything worse would ever touch Pony, but I was so wrong. 

His brother leaving is slowly killing him.

"Hey, you," I gently rub the back of my fingers up and down my brother’s side and swallow hard when I feel each rib as they jut out from his skin. "You okay?"

Ponyboy turns his head to face me and looks angry at first. I wait for his usual ‘I’m not a baby’ retort, but his expression suddenly softens; the gauntness of his face making him look wide-eyed and haunted. He slowly shakes his head before looking back over to the spaghetti sauce.

"I’m hungry," Pony mumbles and I’m immediately distracted.

"Go sit down, I’ll dish up." I ruffle my brother’s hair, expecting him to put up a fight but he doesn’t.

I grab a couple of bowls from the cupboard while Pony slowly eases his way to the table. I hear the coarseness of his lungs as he lets out a couple of harsh coughs and whip my head around to watch as he sits down to catch his breath.

"You _are_ sick," I frown at him knowingly.

"I think it’s just a cold. I’m okay, Darry." Pony shrugs, but as I look at his bony wrists and shoulders and I’m not feeling as sure.

"You’re not eating enough," I slide into our old routine of me lecturing him, but I figure he really needs it this time. He looks like a ghost of who he used to be.

He stays silent, but his chin falls to his chest and I drop the sermon even though I’m worried. I scoop out a portion of spaghetti noodles for him, and make sure to give him extra sauce. I dish my own helping out, grab some utensils, and sit in my seat next to my brother.

He waits as I cut the spaghetti into short strands that are easier for him to fork and also to swallow. These daily routines would be so much easier if Ponyboy couldn’t remember, but he knows what’s been taken away. He remembers who he used to be, and even though his recovery has brought him this far, I can see how it’s frustrating for him to still not be able to do the simplest of things he used to be able to do.

"Try to eat as much as you can." I push his bowl in front of him, and he shoots me a look. "Don’t look at me like that. You’re skin and bones. Why aren’t you eating?"

"I _am_ eating." Ponyboy mumbles quietly as he takes a bite of his dinner and something within me snaps.

"I can’t do this with you, Ponyboy! If you don’t smarten up, I’m taking you to Dr. Pedersen, and I’m gonna shove a tube down your throat and feed you that way! Soda ain’t coming back little brother, so you can just cut this shit out!"

It was cruel. I knew it even before I looked at his face, and I couldn’t believe something so horrible could fall out of my mouth. It wasn’t as though it was purposeful, but in the back of my mind, maybe I thought I could scare Pony and make him better by lashing out. But when he looked at me and burst into tears, I knew that I was only being mean and making things worse.

"Christ! I’m so sorry, Ponyboy. I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry."

I dropped out of my chair to crouch next to him. I didn’t expect him to let me wrap my arms around him, but he did. I didn’t expect him to let me pull him up, and be closer to me as I moved up to stand in front of him, but he did. Pony had an enormous heart that was full of forgiveness. I wasn’t deserving of it, but I took it greedily as it somehow made me feel better.

"Why do you drink all the time?"

It hits me with the weight of a ton of lead, and I don’t know where I find the audacity to be shocked. My brother has become slow, but he’s never been stupid; even now. His body trembles as much as his voice, and I scramble to think of something to say to him; to deny what he already knows.

"You smell like Him. You’re always coming home from work with that smell."

I’m sure my heart stops as I take a deep breath. _I smell like Him_ , and I know who he’s talking about. I was in that house. I was in that kitchen; decorated with empty bottles of beer and whiskey and who knows what else. Pony’s never opened up to me about everything that went on in that foster home, but I know enough to be ashamed. _How the hell did I let this get so out of hand?_

"I thought people drank to feel better?" He’s still holding onto me although I’ve done nothing but let him down.

"I drink so I don’t feel anything." I choke.

"Does it work?"

No judgement comes from my little brother. His question is as pure and innocent as the rest of him and I realize in my quest for numbness, I didn’t really see how bad things had become. Sodapop has only been gone a little over three months, and I’ve spiralled into somebody I don’t know and wouldn’t want to know, and in the process, I’ve left my baby brother to fend for himself.

"I don’t know," I answer absently while my fingers feather through the hair on the back of Ponyboy’s head. He’s still holding onto me and I’m not sure why.

"It scares me."

"I would _never_ hurt you that way, Pony. That would _never_ ever happen." My hands slip around to hold his face so that he looks at me.

"I don’t want you to drink anymore. Please, Darry? Please?"

He still loves me. He still trusts me, and I don’t know why. It could be Soda’s doing; he was always the middleman in our tug-of-war and making us see each other through his eyes. He always brought us back together no matter what our differences were.

After I’ve fed him almost more than his small body can handle, he gets washed up for bed. I sit beside him and my hand is in his hair; my fingers stroke gently through and over the reddish-brown strands as he’s curled up in the middle of my bed hugging Sodapop’s old pillow. I remember how lucky I am to still have him and decide to not take this opportunity for granted. He’s the only thing that matters now.

I wait for Ponyboy to drift off to sleep before I head back to the kitchen and kneel down to open the cupboard below the sink. I rummage through the junk before I find the bottles of whiskey. One I’ve almost polished off. The other’s been waiting for me to crash. I’m barely aware of anything besides my hands shaking, and my breath comes out in gasps when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"It’s okay, Darry. It’s okay."

I look at Two-Bit, whose on his knees beside me and I lose it all as I’m brought back to that dingy bathroom in the hospital that was my home for so long. My hands leave the bottles and cover my face in shame. I feel Two-Bit’s arms wrap around me as I bawl as hard as Ponyboy or Soda ever had. I don’t know what to do with my guilt or shame anymore. I don’t know how to move on.

"Let it go, Darry. Man, I been waitin’ for you to break. Nobody can take this much on. You’re a hug waitin’ to happen." He chuckles, and I feel a smile for the first time in months.

"You grab my ass, I’m gonna punch you in the face." I garble back as my nose is pressed into his shoulder.

I ease away from Two-Bit, and slump down against the cupboard and Two-Bit follows. His arm lands around my shoulders as I cock my head to the side and inspect the rather large duffel bag that’s on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. I look at Two-Bit.

"This place is empty," he shrugs with a grin. "Figured you wouldn’t mind me takin’ over the spare room since Steve ain’t here to use it."

"What about your mom?" I sniffed. He was still living with her, helping her out with the bills.

"Who the hell do ya think packed my bag?"

His laugh is infectious, and it could be the crying or it could be the alcohol I’d drank earlier, but I find myself laughing too.

"Ahhh…Keith, I fucked up. I think I’m in real trouble here." I lean my head back and look at the ceiling.

"So what? You think you’re the only one? You know we’re just kidding when we call you Superman, right? You weren’t supposed to get all literal with it, Darry."

We both huff out a laugh before he continues. "You gotta give yourself a break. You’ve been tying yourself up in knots trying to be everyone’s dad since your mom and pop died. Guess what? You can’t do it all alone. So here I am."

I nod, trying to let his words seep through when he slaps my knee and gets up from the floor and holds a hand out for me. I look at him hard before giving another nod; this time in appreciation. I take his hand and let him help me to my feet.

"I never thanked you for always being there. For me; for the boys."

"And you’ll never have to, Darry." Two-Bit hoists his bag over his shoulder. "Now...tell me where to unpack."


	31. Thirty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough

I felt oddly detached as I spit the last of my nausea into the toilet and stared at the dark red that seemed to fill the bowl. I didn’t think I’d purged that much, and in retrospect I should’ve taken it more seriously or at least given it more thought. I’d been dealing with my shit stomach for so long I just put it on the back-burner with everything else. Pony hadn’t been getting over his cold the past few days, in fact he was looking worse and was more cause for my attention than anything I may have been dealing with. I wanted to take him to Dr. Pedersen, but after the other night with my empty but cruel threats, I held off.

My hands shook as I got up from my knees and leaned over to flush the toilet, and I wished desperately for just one drink to calm my nerves, but my brother had all but begged me not to go there again. I hadn’t verbally answered one way or the other if I’d quit the booze, but the thought that I’d been coming home reeking of the nightmares and atrocities my brother had to live through for two months was more sobering than anything. It was sickening, therefore I’d gone without an ounce for three days. Now I was feeling a lot worse sober.

I’d squeezed an extra dollop of paste onto my toothbrush to rid myself of the metallic taste of blood from my mouth and I could hear Pony struggle with that damned cough that only seemed to be getting worse. It was like it’d attack his poor body with no warning, making him scarlet in the face by the time he was done with it, only to struggle to get his breathing back to normal. He’d had the same whirl when he took a breath ever since back in the hospital when he started breathing on his own without the machines; but there was just something more to it now and it nagged at the back of my head.

I heard a quiet knock, and I turned quickly to unlock and open the bathroom door. Ponyboy looked waxy and pale; his shoulders heaving while he tried to catch his breath. He looked at me tiredly. My head tilted right as I stopped moving the toothbrush over my teeth and looked at him hard. This kid was stronger and more stubborn than I’d ever been.

"’ony…" I tried not to let my spit and toothpaste drool out of my mouth while I gave my brother a look of disapproval and worry.

He shook his head miserably as he weakly hobbled passed me and made his way to the toilet that I’d thankfully flushed just a minute before. I shut the door and averted my gaze while I turned back to the sink and my brother stood at the toilet to empty his bladder. When I noticed him sway on his feet, I decided to keep watch out of the corner of my eye. I hurried my task, spitting the red streaked foam down the drain before placing my toothbrush back into the holder and turned to grab my brother by his upper arm.

"Pony, c’mon," I pleaded with him, knowing he was only going to kick up a fuss from me kicking up a fuss. "I’m calling the doctor. You ain’t gettin’ over this thing."

"Darry," Pony whined. "It’s only been a few days. You’re so impatient."

"Impatient, huh?" I grinned in a little relief. If Pony had enough energy to give a bit of sass, then maybe he wasn’t as bad off as i was making him in my head. "I tend to get that way when one of my little brothers can’t seem to breathe."

Pony’s mouth twisted while he tried not to grin back at me. It felt like something had lifted; even if it was only slightly, while Pony and I stood looking at each other. Pony’s expression suddenly looked puzzled as his eyebrows scrunched together and his gaze drifted slightly before shooting back up to my eyes.

"Are you bleeding?" His wheezy question startled me a bit, and I’m sure my face showed it.

"Am I…?"

"Ain’t that blood?" Pony reached out weakly; his finger tickling the side of my mouth before I whipped around towards the mirror and realized I’d done a rotten job cleaning up after myself.

I wiped at my mouth hastily, and then gave a shrug when I’d removed the stain. "Nah, it’s nothin’. Why don’t you get the cartoons on and go lay down on the couch; Two-Bit’ll be up soon. I’ll get breakfast started."

"’M’kay," Pony shrugged back at me and slowly drug his feet passed me, opening the bathroom door to go head for the living room.

I waited for the sound of the television before I opened the medicine cabinet and reached for my bottle of antacid. I’d been sneaking as many drinks from it as I had been the whiskey since the night Campbell broke into the house. I figured if I could take it easy on the alcohol, maybe my rotten stomach would take it easy on me. One could only hope.

I was staring at the coffee pot debating whether or not to get it up and running when Two-Bit ambled out of the spare room half asleep. I watched him half-amused as he stumbled around the kitchen with his rusty coloured hair sticking up this way and that way. The fly of his jeans was still open and he had a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth while he rummaged through the cupboard for a plate. He didn’t even acknowledge me as he slapped about three servings worth of chocolate cake on that plate and headed for the living room where he sat on the floor right in front of where Pony was resting on the couch.

"You want me to make coffee?" I asked needing a reason to since my own stomach wasn’t sure it could handle a cup this morning.

"What do I look like, an adult?" Two-Bit mumbled as he grabbed a chunk of cake and shoved it in his mouth.

"What the hell was I thinking?" I rolled my eyes. "Pony, What do you want for breakfast?"

"I’m not really hungry." Pony managed to croak out before another coughing fit took hold.

"Wrong answer, kid." Two-Bit frowned as he put his plate down on the coffee table to move next to my brother on the couch where he started to lightly slap him on the back. "Christ, Darry. Ain’t there anything we can do? What about that doctor friend of yours? Can’t he come take a look at him?"

I shot Two-Bit a look as I felt myself tense up. The last face I wanted to see again was Greg’s. As far as I was concerned, he was the reason Sodapop decided to go ahead with his cockamamie scheme to sign up for that stupid war going on in Vietnam. I didn’t know how I’d react if I saw Greg. He only reminded me of what a shitty job I was doing taking care of my brothers.

"I’m…okay…" Pony managed to wheeze between coughs. I relaxed slightly. I was expecting him to harp on the subject of Greg, or worse yet Beth, but he let it go.

"Sure thing, kid. Not like breathing’s a necessity or anythin’. Wait! I’ll hold my breath; first one to pass out’s a rotten egg!" Two-Bit joked, but Pony laughing was just making it harder for him to catch his breath.

"Knock it off." I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the other side of my brother and let my hand do what it needed to do; check for a fever.

"Okay," I mumbled; somewhat satisfied that his temperature felt normal. "You gotta eat for me Pony. You gotta keep your strength up and kick this thing."

"Okay, Darry." Pony was surprisingly compliant with my request.

I didn’t ask anymore questions or nag him to death. I kept it simple; a hard boiled egg and a slice of toast. It wasn’t a lot, but I didn’t want to press my luck and upset him, so I took what I could get.

I watched him eat while making my lunch for work. When it was time for me to leave I had a sudden weary feeling; like I should stay with my brother. My stomach tightened and I braced myself with my hand clutching onto my lunchbox until it passed.

"Alright you two," I sighed as I slowly put my work boots on.

"You’re comin’ right home after work, right Darry?" Pony gave me a look that made my stomach tighten again and I almost couldn’t catch my breath.

I nodded slowly, and when he smiled back at me, I started to breathe again.

"Keep him outta trouble." I winked at Pony while motioning to Two-Bit who’d flipped around on the couch and was using my brother as a pillow for his feet.

Pony smiled again and nodded as I headed out the door.

I don’t remember what time it was when I pulled the truck into the drive that night. I don’t even remember the drive home. I only remember praying that Ponyboy would be tucked away in bed so that he couldn’t see me and the fact that I broke my unspoken promise to him. I felt riddled with guilt, and knew that I deserved every single unbearable second of it.

I was quiet as I opened the door and peered into the living room. The room was dark except for the light shining in from the kitchen. I let out a sigh; disgusted that I couldn’t even stay sober one more day—not even when Ponyboy begged me to. I didn’t make my way to the kitchen to eat. I just eased my stuff down at the door, and headed for my bedroom.

I slept alone that night.

* * *

"You were out awful late last night." Two-Bit eyed me carefully as I tried to act casual while reading the paper.

"I didn’t look at the time." I flipped the page, praying I wouldn’t have to get into it with anyone about the drinking I knew I needed to stop.

"I ain’t your dad, Darry. You wanna get wasted; go right for it. I can hardly blame ya. Shit, I might even join ya if ya want. But if you’re out there by your lonesome, can you at least call me for a ride home?"

I looked at Two-Bit surprised.

"I just ain’t itching for when the cops come knockin’ on the door to tell Ponyboy someone else he loves got killed in an car wreck _again_."

I shook my head, but didn’t say anything. What was there for me to say?

"You comin’ home tonight?"

"I don’t know," I answered honestly. It was only six in the morning and my hands were shaking, and no amount of coffee was going to help. I was counting down the hours until I could have another drink.

Two-Bit nodded and slowly got up from the table to leave me alone with my coffee and paper. I didn’t wait for him to come back. I didn’t wait for Pony to wake up. I quickly made my lunch and packed it up and headed for the door without saying a word.


	32. Thirty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

My head felt heavy and my mind a fog as I tried to move but failed. I fought to open my eyelids, but all I could see was a blur of light while I struggled with my surroundings. There wasn’t much I could remember of the night. Every good intention I had of going home straight after work was blown all to hell when Mr. Garver broke the news after lunch. Garcia was gone. He hadn’t been in Vietnam a year, and he was killed in action and my brother and Steve were on their way to take his, and many other’s place.

The guys were quiet in their shock the rest of the day, but I wasn’t surprised. It was the same fate thousands were dealing with, and my stomach gave a pang of acknowledgement when I thought about the family Garcia left behind. Maybe Soda was right not to marry Sandy before signing up. Maybe he was right to not get to know Jack. What if he didn’t come home? What would the point of it all be in the end? Now Jack wouldn’t know the pain of losing his daddy. Maybe that was Soda’s plan all along; he was still dealing with the pain of losing parents in his own life. Maybe it’s what he thought he’d be sparing me and Ponyboy as well. Maybe Sodapop deserved more credit than I’d ever given him—I’m sure that he did.

My first shot had gone down smooth, but things got fuzzy from there. There was music, there was dancing, laughing, and there was Wendy—leading me to the back of the bar where the bathrooms were. She was on me, around me, and all over me, and I didn’t take exception; I was no longer innocent in this. My jeans were open, and I pushed into her moist heat on the filthy counter next to the sink plugged with soppy balls of used paper napkins and Kleenex and God knows what else. There was no place clean to wash up in the filth of what we were doing. We were all sinners here.

Next to the mirror were the names and numbers to call for a good time. Fran, Joanie, Sue, and Heather were waiting for a call, but I was having my own good time right there with my pants now hiked down along with my underwear, and wondered if Sodapop would still think I was a square.

" _Ya just gotta loosen up a bit, Darry!"_

His voice was ringing in my ears; intent on haunting me.

"Loose enough for you, little buddy?" I garbled into Wendy’s neck.

"Who ya talkin’ to, baby?" Wendy panted; laughing at me, and I don’t remember answering. I don’t remember much of anything after that; I don’t even remember coming. Everything went blank.

The world continued to blur around me as I managed to keep my eyelids from drooping shut. I took a deep breath and tried to muster up enough energy to at least sit up, but I was suddenly covered by a warm weight, and hot hands were running themselves through my hair.

"I gotta get home." My words were slurred as I groaned out, knowing that I wasn’t alone.

"You ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart." I could feel soft breath on my neck as the words tickled my ear. "You’re fuckin’ wasted. Go to sleep, I can take you home in the morning."

I managed to jerk my head back while my lungs took in another needed breath. I tried to move out from under the warm body covering me, but I felt debilitated.

"I gotta get home. My br…" I could barely mumble the words.

"It’s gonna be alright, baby. Just relax and I’ll take care of you tonight. You’ll be right as rain tomorrow. Just get some sleep."

"M’kay,". Everything went black...

_...I’d heard the knock at the door, and rolled out of my bed knowing I shouldn’t answer, but I had no control over it. The walls were cold and grey; any life that had existed in the house I’d grown up in was gone. Both warmth and life had been sucked out. My hand shook as it yielded right, and the door was suddenly ajar._

_He was silent as he threw the jungle fatigues at me and wrenched me out of the house by my arm. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I was itchin’ to cut him up again like I did that damned night not so long ago when it was my baby brother he’d taken, but my body eluded me. I followed him, not able to turn around or keep my feet planted, or even step aside. He was silent as he led me down to the driveway._

_Then, in a millisecond, I found myself in a combat zone with a furious firefight going on around me. Bullets and rockets and shrapnel flying passed. Martin Campbell was gone, but hundreds of soldiers were yelling: screaming for the fight to end, and my feet finally stalled and allowed me to quit moving forward. Solo in my soldier costume, a helplessness came over me as I dropped to my knees. Useless with no weapon, I watched in horror as the soldiers fell wounded and dead, one-by-one._

" _I couldn’t save him,"_

_I looked to my right where Steve was then knelt down beside me; weeks of combat and unrest evident on his face. He looked at me; salty tears spilling over as he handed me the bloodied ball chain with the dog tags clanking together. I read the letters: "CURTIS SODA, P." and quickly looked back at Steve._

" _I tried, I swear to God, Darry. I tried…"..._

I jolted up with a start as I gasped and tried to settle the bounding pulse that was racing out of control. My hands found my face; shielding me somehow from the Godawful thoughts and images that were taunting me in my sleep. When the gasping slowed down and I was able to catch my breath, another nagging issue caused me some alarm. My hands slowly dragged down my face, and as I looked around I realized that I didn’t know where the hell I was.

I looked around the room; as foreign to me as the battlefield I’d been in the middle of not minutes before while I was asleep. As unnerving as it was waking up in a strange place, the only thing that was nagging at the back of my head was the fact that I couldn’t remember anything I’d done short of going to the bar after work.

"You’re up!"

My head about spun around when the door opened and Wendy sauntered her way over to me. Part of me was relieved; at least I’d found myself in good company. I let out a breath I was holding and felt my hands start their tremble as I ran one of them through my unruly hair.

"Shucks, baby. You still look a bit out of it." Wendy smiled while she slinked down onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. "I love a man that loses control like that! You were amazing last night!"

She was quite enamoured with the mess I’d become. I felt her lips and tongue as they traveled down from my ear to my jaw while a hand slid beneath the bed covers to grab a hold of the only part of me that seemed to remember what happened the night before. That part remembered Wendy very well, and for a second I was ready to throw caution to the wind and give in to my new friend, but an odd chill crept along my skin. I quickly grabbed her hand, and pulled it away.

"I gotta get home, Wendy." I looked at her as I pulled back slightly, giving her her hand back.

"Awe, let me take care of you, baby. I won’t bite unless you want me to," she grinned slyly, moving off me while trying to uncover my lap.

"Look…" I felt a trace of frustration when I realized that Wendy did not intend to give up easily. I grabbed the sheets to cover myself. "I got a family. I gotta get home."

"What; are you married or somethin’, ‘cause you should know that sorta thing doesn’t matter to me."

"No…no I’m not married." But part of me wished I had been, just to let Wendy down easy.

"Were you? You got a kid or somethin’?"

"Yeah," I answered a little too easily. "I got a kid at home that I need to look out for. He’s been real sick and I gotta get home, Wendy. I need my clothes."

I’d thought about it time and again; moments with Ponyboy since our parents were taken from us. Moments when we didn’t get along, and the moments we had now since we’d become close. I could hear Pony’s small voice, so confident even through the raspiness, telling me I’d done good; I’d been a good dad to him. I knew this was going to hurt him. I knew I let him down, and for the first time since learning of Soda and Steve going off to Vietnam, I didn’t want to feel numb. I wanted to go home and be that big brother and friend and father figure. I wanted to go home. I wanted to get my shit together.

"Oh," was all Wendy said as she looked away dejected.

"I’m sorry, Wendy. I’d love to stay, I just…"

"No, if you got a kid, I get it."

I could feel the mood change as she got up from the bed and tightened the tie on her robe. She looked around the room angrily; avoiding eye contact with me. She moved to the far corner where I noticed a blue armchair. My clothes were folded neatly in a pile. She slowly gathered them and brought them over to me; dropping them unceremoniously to the bed in front of me.

"Can I offer you a coffee? I’ll take you to your truck once we get cleaned up."

"I’d like that a lot, thanks."

"I’ll go grab you a cup while you’re gettin’ dressed. What do you take?"

"Just black. I appreciate it, Wendy. Thank you." I smiled softly.

"I’ll be right back, baby." Her smile was sudden and somehow misplaced as she left me to put my clothes on.

My body felt a bit sluggish and uncooperative as I hastily threw the bed covers off and grabbed for my underwear first. I shook my head, cursing myself for ever having let things get this out of hand. I _knew_ better than this. I’d seen first hand what alcohol had done; how it tore families apart. I couldn’t count the number of times Johnny Cade had taken refuge under our roof after both of his parents had taken their snags with alcohol out on him and each other. Or Steve, whose father insisted on dealing with his wife leaving by drinking and creating all-out boxing matches with his son. And then Ponyboy; handed over to a drunken sadist by the State. I had so much making up to do, but I knew where to start.

My jeans were barely over my hips when Wendy was back with a cup of coffee for me. My first reaction was guarded; she didn’t leave me enough time to get my damned clothes on and fastened before she was all over me again. But then I’d felt guilty; she was another person I’d dragged into my nightmare of bad decision making. I honestly didn’t know why she wasn’t showing me the door with my skull.

"Wendy," I struggled to unwrap her arms from around me while not spilling the piping coffee she’d handed me.

I jerked away, sloshing a bit of the coffee over my hand and Wendy stepped back slightly with a frown.

"Thank you—for everything, but I gotta go. I’m sorry, I just…"

"I…I was just hoping we could…before you left. I had a really good time last night."

"I did too." Lie. I barely knew my name the night before, let alone if I’d had a good time. "My kid’s real sick." Not a lie; completely. "I should’ve gone home last night to check on him."

"Alright," she sighed resignedly as she sat down beside my shirts that were still on the bed.

I grinned down at her; planting my ass next to hers with an ‘oompf’ that made her smile. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and took a drink of coffee and let the rich bitterness give me a new hope. As much as I truly liked Wendy, I knew that I wouldn’t see her again after this day. She was a swell girl, but she wasn’t the one for me, and this was a road I didn’t want to be on anymore. I’d lost who I was in the fog I was yearning for, but now I knew what I needed to do.

"How’s that coffee?" She rested her head on my shoulder and I’d taken another generous swallow in appreciation.

"Real good, thank you." I gave her a squeeze, and she giggled.

"Finish it up. I’ll get you another while you finish dressing. Or should we leave now?"

"Yeah, I’d better get a move on," I mumbled before quickly finishing the coffee she’d offered me.

Wendy smiled and planted a chaste kiss on my cheek before reaching to take my now empty coffee cup from my hand. She didn’t say anything as she left me alone. I slowly reached for my undershirt and quickly threw it on. It wasn’t until I eased up from the side of the bed; grabbing for my shirt, that I realized that something was very very wrong.

Every movement was suddenly next to impossible as I tried to stay upright on my feet. My eyes fought with me tooth and nail to close no matter how much I wanted to keep them open. When I felt myself start to tip over, Wendy was there to guide me back down to the bed.

"See?" I could feel her talking as her soft breath was close to my ear. "I told you, you just need to stay a while; rest a bit."

I couldn’t speak. I was lying flat-out, face-first on the bed. I’d become completely numb with my senses depressed and out of my control. In the back of my mind I tried to remind myself to keep breathing, but even that was a task I felt I had no more control over.

"Just sleep, baby. I’m gonna take care of you."

It was the last thing I heard before I slipped back into darkness.


	33. Thirty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Curtis!"

I could hear rhythmic beeping from far away. I felt like I was submerged under a tidal wave; unable to breach the surface, and unable to take a much-needed breath. My body was starving for it; I could feel my face, my arms and legs, my fingertips burning from the lack of oxygen. My legs kicking and my arms spearing through the water to reach the exterior, but I wasn’t going to make it. The beeping was growing louder; getting nearer.

"Curtis!"

"Jesus, is he even fuckin’ breathing?"

"Goddammit, Darry!"

My eyes jolted open when I felt as though someone had struck me across the jaw. The beeping progressed. The room was blinding; white walls and white light brighter than I’d ever imagined, so I closed my eyes again. I wondered foolishly if I’d died and I was in some sort of in-between place, waiting for either heaven or hell. The beeping was suddenly right next to me; the sound so familiar and ingrained on my memory, I couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize it sooner.

_"No change. He’s still hanging in there." A soft voice echoed._

_I opened my eyes and there we were. Ponyboy lying flat on his back; a barrage of machines whirling, whooshing, beeping and keeping his frail body from giving out. His eyes black and purple; swollen lids shielding his eyes from the unusual brightness of the otherwise dim and quiet hospital room. Black handprints scarring the skin around his neck and arms, more creeping under the sheet hiding the rest of him. And next to him was his brother; Sodapop with his chair pushed right up against the bed so that he could hug onto his brother’s arm while he slept and while he prayed._

_My head screamed at me; the pounding becoming louder than the machines that were keeping my brother alive. Caught in between wanting to hold onto both of my brothers and not let go, and not ever wanting to be in that place where Ponyboy living or dying could be decided on the flip of a dime. I didn’t want to be there. I couldn’t go through that again. I wanted to jump ahead to the part where he opened those eyes and whispered my name. I wanted the part where we took him home and we stayed close and took care of him. My body was screaming. I did not want to live through that again._

"C’mon, Curtis. Atta boy!" I could feel the large hand holding my face; shaking it and occasionally giving it a slap when I felt myself drifting back again.

"He don’t even look like Pony’s brother. He’s blue. He could be an alien."

"Are you adopted?"

"What?"

"Are you _fuckin’_ adopted? You got shit for brains, Curly and nobody in the family’s dumb but you. Were you adopted?"

"Chill out, Tim. I was just jokin’"

"No, you were bein’ an assface. Shut the fuck up and go drag that stupid broad back in here!"

I could feel my arms being tugged and twisted while the voice was trying to get me propped up, half-sitting.

"C’mon, Darry. I gotcha buddy, but you gotta open your eyes and start breathin’, man."

"Pony…" I managed to mumble.

"Gonna get you home to him, Darry. Don’t worry about it. Had half the East side lookin’ for you, buddy. Scared the shit outta everyone."

"Gotta get home…he’s sick…" My voice was weak.

"I know, Darry. I’m gonna get you back there but not like this. Hang in there!"

I tried to lift my head, but it just flopped against what I then realized was Tim Shepard’s shoulder. My eyes managed to stay open; taking in my surroundings. The room felt vaguely familiar, and yet I still couldn’t figure it out. _What was happening?_ My eyes drooped shut.

"Darry, stay with me." Tim prompted again, and I realized I was completely propped up against him with him sitting behind me. My eyes would not stay open.

"Get in there, you crazy bitch!"

"What the fuck did you give him?"

"Tim! Nothing! We were just having a good time!"

"Wendy, you’ve been crazier than a shithouse rat for as long as I’ve known ya. What the fuck did you give him? And if you make me go over there, I swear to fuck I’m gonna break your arm!"

"Just a little Valium, Tim. Relax! He said he didn’t wanna feel anything anymore. Don’t fault me for tryin’ to help a sweetheart out."

"What the hell happened? That shouldn’t mess him up this much. What’d you do?"

"Nothin’! We had a few drinks. He’s so sweet. I wanted to keep him."

"Holy shit! She’s fuckin’ nuts, Tim!"

"Did ya screw him?"

"Tim…!"

"Keep yer goddam mitts off him, Wendy! Do you understand? Stay away from him. He ain’t one of us."

"I didn’t know he knew you, Tim! I swear! He was comin’ ‘round the bar. I just wanted a good time."

"Consider the good time had and over. Are you fuckin’ brain dead? You’re lucky I found him here when I did. He was barely breathing, or were you too high to notice?"

"God, Tim. So bloody dramatic! You know you’re gettin’ soft in your old age. I thought you didn’t have any friends?"

"I don’t…except for him. So, you can forget about him, got it?"

"Pony…I gotta get home." The yelling around me was doing nothing but aggravate my headache. The beeping was getting even louder.

"I know, buddy." I could feel Tim tighten his grip around me. "Curly get yer ass over here and gimme a hand! We gotta get him to the car. His little brother, man…he’s pretty messed up now. Probably thinks he’s dead. Hurry up!"

"Pony…"

I don’t remember voices after that. I tried to open my eyes again, but I felt my body jar between the two Shepard brothers and lost track of everything. The beeping finally stopped.

* * *

When I was able to open my eyes again, it was easier. The room was dark with a dim light casting shadows on the wall. Again, I found myself in another strange and unfamiliar place, but I knew I had the wherewithal to bolt if I needed to. It didn’t take long to register that I wasn’t alone. I could hear the steady, calm breathing from behind where I was laying, and I caught a whiff of freshly brewed coffee.

"Alright, Darrel?" It was Tim.

"Mmmm…" was all I could manage. My throat felt dry; mouth full of cotton.

"Think you can sit up? Drink some water?"

I nodded but hesitated. I moved my head to make sure I wasn’t imagining things and rolled over slowly. I had no idea what was going on or where the hell I was but was thankful Tim had been sitting at my six; literally covering my back.

I flexed my thighs and arms, noting how tired they felt, but they still worked. I slowly sat up and looked over. Tim Shepard was in a chair reading the paper. He looked at me and shook his head in mock disgust.

"You need a fuckin’ haircut, you look like shit. Coffee or water?"

"Last time I drank coffee, I think I passed out. Not sure it sits well with me anymore." My voice croaked as I looked at him apprehensively.

"You remember anything?"

I shrugged weakly. "Went to work yesterday. Had a few drinks after…gets hazy after that…" I shoved the heel of my hand in my eye to to rub it, trying to remember.

"Yesterday, huh?" Tim folded the paper in half before throwing it on the floor. "Darry, you were gone damned near a week. Mathews called for help; blubberin’ about how you didn’t come home. I found your truck out by Checkers. That’s how I tracked you down."

"Jesus," my hands flew up to cover my face. _What the hell was happening to me._ "Pony…" My stomach slammed into my chest knowing how scared my brother must’ve been when I disappeared.

"I just didn’t figure you for poppin’ pills with ‘ol Wendy, is all."

"What are you talkin’ about? It was a couple of drinks. What pills?" A sudden wave of sickness spread over me as my stomach gave another clench.

Tim stared a me long and hard. "That’s what I thought. Good ‘ol Wendy; likes to dabble in a bit of pharmacy. I’m sorry you got tied up with her; if I’da known sooner…"

"Where the hell am I?" I started to panic again; realizing I had no account for the last week of my life. The last tidbit Tim was sharing about Wendy wasn’t helping either. I thought I’d been a decent judge of character before, but clearly alcohol had skewed it.

"You’re okay, no crazy bitches here, friend. You were in rough shape; still are although I think the worst has passed. Didn’t feel right just dumpin’ you off at home; wanted to get you straightened out first. You’re at my place."

I looked around the room, relief washing over me even though I had no way of explaining any of this to Two-Bit or my brother. _How did I let it get this far?_

"So, you straight now?" Tim’s voice turned icy as his eyes bore into me.

I nodded.

"You been drinkin’ a lot?" Tim asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

There was no point in denial. I nodded.

"Why? That night gettin’ to ya? You feel guilty about cuttin’ up that pig?"

And just like that I was back in that old machine shop; broken with the thought that my fourteen-year-old brother was dead, blood dripping from my hands after finally laying them on the monster responsible. There was a calmness within my rage. An odd calmness from losing control that I hadn’t felt since that night. Since that night, everything was chaos.

"No." I answered with no doubts. I had no regrets about what I’d done that night.

"Good. That’s good. Some people deserve to die, Darry. We’ll leave it at that."

It was quiet for a moment while I thought about what Tim had said. Even though I wasn’t privy to the details of how Martin Campbell took his final breath, I knew he had, and there wasn’t a bone in my body that felt bad about it. Campbell deserved to die; Tim was right. Campbell deserved a horrible death and I felt no regrets having made sure that that was exactly what was dished out to him.

"What’s with the drinking then? You got your brother back; you got a second chance with him. What’s the problem?"

"I lost the other one." I mumbled wistfully, forgetting that it was Tim Shepard I was talking to. I doubted Shepard would have any capacity to sympathize with me.

"’Nam, right? Yeah, heard it through the grapevine. They get him? He dead already?"

"No…no I don’t even know where he is really. Sent a letter sayin’ they sent him for more training. Said he’d let me know when they ship him off." That was a month and a half ago—a lifetime ago.

"Sodapop stupid, or somethin’? A pretty boy maybe, but _I_ never took him for stupid. He stupid?"

" _What_?" I felt my fist clench, and I was ready to pop Tim in the mouth for even suggesting Sodapop was anything but perfect. "No, my brother is _not_ stupid. What the _fuck_ , Tim?"

"So, they send him off to be a soldier, and you just give up? I’ve seen that kid fight, Darry. Vietnam should be worried, not you."

"It ain’t the same as a rumble down at the vacant lot, Tim. This is war."

"Yeah, and a nasty one at that. But your brother grew up in this neighborhood; on these streets, Darrel. I’ve seen him take out a couple of my own guys even, and _that_ takes balls. He’s your brother which means you’ve taught him everything you know. Maybe it’s about time you give the kid some fuckin’ credit."

I’d been so terrified of losing my brother I’d lost faith in everything including Sodapop’s strength and resilience. My brother _was_ strong. After everything he’d been through he had his own reputation for being a force to reckon with, and it wasn’t just because he was my brother. I thought about how protective he was of both Pony and me and couldn’t believe I didn’t take that into account. Soda would do everything it took to get back home to us, and I couldn’t believe I didn’t trust in that.

"Find what you love, and let it kill you, Darry. But don’t kill what you love. I got a lot of respect for you; you’ve always treated me like an equal even though you know the shit I’ve done and know what my life’s about. Whatever you need, man."

I nodded. Everything Tim was saying resonated deep. Losing Ponyboy after I’d hit him had left me afraid of everything, and fear had clouded my focus and was starting to control my life; spiraling out of my own hands until I was blind to the fact I’d been paralyzed by my fear of losing my brothers.

"I feel a little weird," I mumbled while I looked down at my lap.

"Why?" Tim looked at me stone-faced as usual.

"I should be on your couch, doctor. Not in your bed." My mouth pulled up and I felt a small huff of a laugh escape.

"I’m not above trading services." Tim let out a rare laugh, and slowly got up from the chair. "Take some time to get your shit together. Don’t fuck it all up for a bottle, Curtis. And if you need help, I have a bit of experience in this, so…"

I nodded my understanding.

"C’mon, I’ll show you to the head. It’s late, but get washed up and I’ll take you home; they’re goin’ crazy there without ya."


	34. Thirty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

My hands started their now usual tremble before Tim had turned dad’s old Ford onto my street. I’d taken my time in the shower; cleaning myself up before I could garner up the courage to head home. But now my body decided to kick in; my hands asking for the one thing I knew I couldn’t touch anymore. To my horror I realized that I not only _wanted_ a drink, but I now _needed_ it too.

"You good?"

Routines can be a dangerous thing. As I was angling to give Tim my usual _‘I’m fine’_ , I realized that part of the problem was that I continued to ignore the fact that I _wasn’t_ fine. I was a mess and I needed help. I didn’t know how I’d let things get so out of hand, but one thing became clear to me—I knew that I couldn’t trust myself anymore. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get a hold of this problem if it was left solely up to me, and that scared the hell out of me. I’d put myself, my friends, and my family in a delicate predicament and even though the shame was tangible, I _still_ wanted a drink.

"Easy, Darry." I heard Tim’s voice as he pulled into the drive.

I stared at the door to what had been my home for over two decades, and suddenly felt like a stranger. I didn’t know where to start cleaning up the huge mess I’d managed to create. Pieces of my life felt strewn from one end of the yard to the next and I didn’t know where to begin to pick those pieces up.

I jumped when Curly pulled Tim’s car up behind the truck and gave a quick honk. Again, I tried to hide the fact that I was half-way to wigging out, when Tim Shepard put a sturdy hand on my shoulder.

"Want me to stay?" I could feel him watching my hands as they shook. I shrugged wordlessly.

"Hang tight. I’ll send my brother home and I’ll walk ya in."

"No…I think it’s okay. Don’t put yourself out." My usual routine took over, but thankfully Tim could see through the lies I’d been telling myself and everyone else.

"Yeah, tell it to my ass, my head is sore."

Tim got out of the truck and I watched through the side mirror as he strutted over to his brother to go give him the news. Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. needed a babysitter tonight. Humiliation and shame complete. I’d spent the last couple of years raising my brothers where my parents had left off, and now I was the one that needed the adult. I was embarrassed, but I knew within the four walls of where I’d grown up, was a very special kid waiting on me to get my ass in gear, and my humility didn’t matter as much to me as he did. I found a bit of clarity with that thought.

My hands were still trembling, but I managed to open the passenger door and slowly slide out of the truck. I took a deep breath and started the walk up to the house not knowing what kind of disaster waited for me. It was only a second later I could feel Tim at my back again and I felt a little more courage.

The house was silent except for the quiet voices I could hear coming from one of the bedrooms. I turned to catch the screen door so that it wouldn’t slam shut and disrupt the seemingly peacefulness of the house, but Tim Shepard had already taken care of it; pointing at my boots in a silent command to remove them. I slowly toed them off my feet while leaning against the wall, hoping it would steady me. 

It didn’t.

"Right behind ya," Tim’s voice was cool and steady.

I nodded and took a step but was suddenly scared right out of my mind when Two-Bit peered around the corner. I was frozen. I had no idea how my friend was going to react to my return, and I knew I deserved any ass whooping he may have been planning to dish out. I’d already decided to take it before we left Tim’s place. I deserved the worst for what I’d done.

"Darry?" He looked surprised to see me even though I did live there. "Jesus Christ, you stupid asshole!"

I flinched a bit when he charged for me, and then stood there in shock when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and squeezed. I let out a breath and felt myself relax a little. Two-Bit pulled back and took a good look at me. He shook his head.

"You okay?" He asked worriedly but looked over to Tim Shepard when I couldn’t answer.

"He had a rough week. Sorry ‘bout that, Mathews. Wanted him to dry out a bit before returning him. Let him see his brother; he’s been calling for him all week."

"He ain’t good, Darry." There was an edge of panic to his voice that snapped me out of whatever self-loathing I was busy feeling. "Wouldn’t eat anything or take his medicine. Darry, I can’t even get near him. I didn’t know what to do so I called your Supernurse. I know y’all are on the outs, but he’s so sick. I was desperate. Don’t be mad, man. Please."

I shook my head. I knew Two-Bit would do everything he could to keep Ponyboy safe. I knew that going in. I trusted Two-Bit with not only my life, but my brother’s’ as well. I lifted my arm and patted the side of Two-Bit’s face, knowing he’d done what he thought was best and there was nothing to be upset over. I wasn’t exactly itching to be face-to-face with Beth, especially after I’d been screwing around with some unstable junkie barmaid, but it didn’t matter. My brother needed her.

"Where is he?" My voice cracked nervously.

"He’s been in your room since you took off."

I nodded again and took a step to head for my bedroom, but Two-Bit grabbed my arm to stop me. I looked at him.

"He ain’t good. For real, Darry."

I thought that Two-Bit was trying to tell me Pony had gotten sicker. But when I slowly made my way through the open doorway to my room, my heart broke and I had to swallow down a sob.

Beth was reading aloud softly while she sat about two feet away from my brother. She stopped when she saw me; her voice catching, and her face looked nervous. She looked over to my brother, closed the book, and stood up from where she’d been sitting on the floor. There was so much to say to her, but it would have to wait. My eyes were fixated where my brother was down on his knees; face pressed into the corner where the two walls met. His body was trembling while his pyjamas hung from his bony frame.

"He won’t let anyone touch him. I just wanted to see if I could snap him out of it." Beth looked like she’d been crying.

"Thank you for coming." I whispered.

Beth’s face and voice turned cold. "I didn’t do it for you."

Her shoulder brushed against me as she left the bedroom. Her words stung and I closed my eyes. It was nothing I didn’t deserve to hear, so I swallowed it down.

In spite of cleaning up at the Shepard’s, the smoky cheap smell of cigarettes, booze, and sex emanated from my clothing, so I whipped my shirt off and let it land where I’d been standing. I considered pulling my jeans off as well but looked at the state my brother was in and thought better of it. I closed my eyes and then opened them before carefully making my way to Ponyboy.

I eased down behind him and slowly reached my hand out for his own. The fingers on my right hand found his, and I threaded them through so that I could hold onto his hand. To my surprise he didn’t jump or skirt away. He didn’t spook or tremble, he just simply started to cry. My usual reaction was to stay calm and strong for him; maybe shush him or try to get him to stop, but I couldn’t this time. This time, I let myself to cry too.

I cried for a lot of reasons; mostly for the way my little brother seemed so broken in that tiny and battered body of his. I wondered if I’d ever get used to it; if I’d ever accept the fact that the boy I’d watched grow up for fourteen years, was gone. I wondered foolishly if he’d magically return to the person he once was if I just held him a little tighter and a little longer. I could picture it in my head; my life seeping out of my body into his and healing him, but when my eyes opened the fantasy faded. My brother was fifteen now, and a shell of who he used to be.

I’d let my brother down. There was so much shame and disappointment in myself for that. In truth, I’d let everyone down, and part of me figured it’d be easier if Pony would just reject me, but Pony never had made things easy for me. Instead, he curled his fingers with mine; holding on tight along with me and then let me wrap myself around him. I held him snug, wrapping his and my right arm around his middle, and he finally moved his face from the wall, leaning his body back into me. My face buried itself in the back of his neck, and I cried harder.

"I’m sorry, kiddo." I managed to choke before I pressed my lips to his skin. "I messed up. I left and I told ya I wouldn’t. I’m so sorry to have done that to you."

"I don’t wanna go to another home. Please don’t make me. I’ll be good…I don’t wanna go..." He cried into his chest and I felt like my heart had been ripped to shreds.

"You ain’t goin’ anywhere, Pony. C’mon…you know I’d never let anyone take you again. It ain’t gonna happen, baby. I’m not gonna let that happen. I’m with ya until the end." My throat felt thick and it was impossible to swallow.

Ponyboy just cried.

It wasn’t a sudden or violent sense of loss like when Soda had left him, but it was heartbreaking to see Pony so distraught. His breathing was deep and steady, and I felt relief in that. He was weak, but he was taking in enough air. I felt a soft tap on my shoulder and looked up to see Beth slide down to the floor next to us. She was holding the bottle of his medicine.

"Did he have a lot of ‘em?" I asked, referring to Ponyboy’s seizures. Beth nodded.

"I tried everything, but he wouldn’t let us help him. I would like to call Greg, if you’re okay with that?"

 _Greg to the rescue again._ I could’ve rolled my eyes but refrained. I had enough to make up for; I didn’t need to offend or hurt Beth more. I knew at some point Greg would wedge himself back into my life; come save my brother from all the shit I’d caused him, and I just couldn’t deal with that now. It was selfish, but I just wanted my brother to only need me right then.

"Tomorrow, okay?" I looked at her timidly.

Beth looked at me curiously before looking down at how mine and Pony’s fingers entwined. Her eyes regarded me softly before she nodded, and I hoped that maybe one day I’d be deserving of her forgiveness. She looked away and poured out the dose for Pony’s medication, and I pushed that hope aside, focussing back on my brother.

"Hey, little buddy,"

I shifted my position, wanting to hold Ponyboy so that he was sideways and leaning up against me. Luckily for me he was like a rag doll; his body light and pliant as I swung his legs over mine; his bum resting on my thighs. His right hand stayed fused with mine, but I noticed how contorted his left arm and hand had become, and I looked at Beth.

"Pony, can you take your medicine now? I’ll give it to Darry, sweetheart."

I waited for an indignant _"I’m not a baby"_ , but it didn’t come. Ponyboy was curled up into me _exactly_ like a baby, and I just took it in gluttonously because it made me feel like he might have needed me as much as I did him.

I carefully unhinged my fingers from my brother’s and took the graduated cup from Beth, bringing it up to Pony’s lips. He didn’t make any indication he’d even heard Beth but drank up the syrup like he was asked. He cringed and choked a little after; sputtering from the horrible taste before turning his face into me. His breathing remained deep and regular. The whirling was always there but had lessened substantially since I’d last seen him.

"He’s so small." Beth’s words were barely a whisper as she tentatively reached out to touch Pony’s hair. "He needs to eat."

"He needs Soda."

It wasn’t spiteful or jealous; it was what I’d lived with and grew to know as long as Pony had been alive. Sodapop was the answer to everything Ponyboy. Pony loved his brother more than anything in the world; even more than our late parents. And even though I knew there was a spot for me in his life and in that wonderful heart of his, it wasn’t the same thing, and I was finally okay with that. But Sodapop wasn’t here and there was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t return, and somehow, I’d have to be enough. I’d have to figure out how to be enough for him.

"Well, you were the one he was crying for. What are you doing to yourself, Darrel?" Beth’s voice seemed desperate.

"Darry," I frowned, correcting her because I didn’t know how to answer her. I didn’t know how I’d let myself lose so much control.

She half-laughed, half-sobbed before reaching for my face. I felt her lean in to kiss me, but I turned my head. I wouldn’t let her forgive me that easily—I knew I hadn’t earned it quite yet. She resigned to kissing my head and held her lips to my temple a little too long to be just chaste, and the comfort wrapped me up like a blanket. I felt a heavy fatigue settle into my bones. I felt as though I could sleep forever.

"Ummm…" I could hear Two-Bit’s nervous voice from behind me at the doorway of my room. "Just wondering if Supernurse needed a ride home?"

"I could stay…if you want…"

She wanted me to say yes, but it wasn’t the time. I owed her an explanation and the truth, and even though she said she’d play second fiddle to my brothers without an ounce of complaint or hesitation, second fiddle meant she was going to have to wait.

"You should go. We’ll talk as soon as I get him turned around."

The look on her face was sad, and I almost changed my mind when she nodded disappointedly, but I was a world of mess right then and it wasn’t fair to take her hostage in all of that. I was so in love with her; I knew and felt it. But love just wasn’t enough right then.

"You’ll call me this time?" She was crying, and I hated myself a little bit more.

I nodded and meant it. I let her lips touch mine; I didn’t turn away. They were soft and warm as was her hand when her fingers rubbed through the hair on the back of my head. When she pulled back from me, she looked down at my brother and nodded.

"Will you let Greg look at him?"

"Tomorrow." I nodded, and she seemed satisfied with that. She slowly got up from the floor and let Two-Bit take her home.

I’d slept harder that night than I had since Soda had left for basic training, and like him I decided to ignore the need for personal space. I wanted Pony to know that I was there for him, and in turn I needed to feel him living and breathing next to me. I tucked him in, half underneath me and we both fell asleep.

When I awoke, Pony was still tucked in where I’d had him. Neither one of us had moved during the night. The birds were chirping outside of my window; cheerful and oblivious to everything that was wrong with the world, and I envied them. I let my mind drift and wonder what kind of strife a bird would have to live through, and then pictured my brother almost a year ago. It was his birthday, and he sat out in the yard drawing that blue jay he said reminded him of me. I eased off of Pony; looking over my shoulder to where I’d tacked that picture onto my wall, and let myself smile.

I’d showered and shaved, dressed in a clean pair of jeans and shirt, and headed for the kitchen to start on a much needed breakfast for everyone. I felt a little better, and was relieved to still find food in the icebox, but not surprised given Two-Bit’s history of bailing me out during difficult times. I grabbed what I needed, pulled the fry pan out of the oven, and gave a quick snicker when I heard someone mumbling swear words in their sleep from the living room. I took a peek through the opening between, and sure enough Tim Shepard had taken the couch for the night.

It wasn’t until my hands started shaking, that I lost my confidence. My pining for a drink inched it’s way into my psyche as well as my body, and I clenched my fists while I took a deep breath to try and block out the craving. It only served to make me want a drink even more. I looked back towards the living room, realizing that Tim Shepard was here exactly for this reason. But before I could head over to wake him; to beg him to make sure I never touched another drop, I heard the front door open.

_Greg fuckin’ Allain right on time to save the day. Perfect._

I let my head roll back as my eyes did too.

But then the world turned itself on its axis, and I didn’t know if the last six months had been real or a dream. I heard the familiar voice from behind me and thought I was just hearing things until I turned around and he was standing there in his army fatigues.

"Darry…"

Sodapop dropped the duffle bag he was holding, and came barreling in like a colt. His arms wound around me, and I felt life surge within me again. I breathed him in and knew it was no hallucination. I didn’t know why, but my brother was back and my fears had gone away.


	35. Thirty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It took time to heal. Healing was a process with some days mending better than others. A lot of it was _allowing_ myself to heal; believing that I was deserving, even though deep down I couldn’t see it because I could never fully forgive myself. I wasn’t sure that I ever would.

It was an autumn morning—two in the morning to be exact when my youngest brother straggled in from a night out with his friend. I’d been worried sick; thinking the worst had happened but unable to do anything because if the State of Oklahoma caught wind that my fourteen-year-old brother was out at all hours of the night, he’d get thrown in a boys home or a foster home somewhere. It wasn’t intentional, but we seemed to be at odds no matter what, and when he uttered the senseless excuse that he’d just fallen asleep outside in the cold with his best friend—I didn’t take the second needed to listen more. I didn’t want to. I was coming down from my relief that he was safe, to anger that he’d do this to me without a thought of what he’d put me through those torturous few hours of thinking the very worst. The one thing in the world I’d never be able to get over; losing one of my brothers. And I hit him. I hit him hard.

I drove him away late at night—early in the morning. I drove him away from the safety of his home for more than just the week him and Johnny disappeared after killing some soc in the park. I drove him away and into the arms of a man so unspeakably sadistic and evil that it would take a thousand lifetimes to erase what he’d done to my brother from my mind. And I’d let the guilt eat me alive; never able to let it go. I fed the guilt my heart and everything I loved in my life just so it would stop hurting. I fed it everything until there was nothing left.

I looked down at the photo of a boy I’d only met once before, but whose face haunted me with the aching memories of two boys whom I’d loved more than anything. My eyes stung as they traced over the familiar lines of his face, the small cleft of his chin, and the brightness in his eyes as he smiled. It was eerie, as though it were actually my brother’s photo. I felt that horrible yearning; my heart open and exposed for God to reach in one last time and end me.

"He’s so beautiful," my wife was suddenly there holding me from behind, and I let a tear go. "He looks like his daddy, but he looks like his uncles too. How old is he now?"

"Three? Four?" My voice cracked; feelings too deep and powerful to ever numb me made their way to the surface.

I sniffed back another tear as I leaned back into her; letting her wrap me in the comfort I’d always been so desperate for. My head fell forward and I let it go after her gentle coaxing. A lifetime of despair seeped out, using my tears as its vessel while she held me steady so I wouldn’t crumble to my knees.

"When are you going to forgive yourself?"

I shrugged wordlessly, and she turned me around so that I was facing her.

"You can’t keep on living like this. _Find_ him. Bring him home. You’ll never be right until you do."

"What if he hates me? I hurt him so bad…" I struggled to catch my breath. "…he hates me. I…I can’t."

" _Find_ him. _Talk_ to him. _Listen_ to him. If after that he doesn’t want anything to do with you then you’ll know. You’ll know you’ve done everything, and maybe that’ll be enough for you to let go."

I knew she was right, but not knowing was still somehow better. Not knowing meant there was still a chance he’d come back to me. If I somehow managed to find him and he really did want me out of his life…

"Find him, Darrel. You’ll never have peace until you do."

She was right. She’d always been right from the first time I’d met her. She knew the value of family from having lost her own, and she never once gave up the hope that I’d be able to mend what was left of mine.

Beth had never given up on me. She’d never given up on anyone. Even when I couldn’t function because I’d been so riddled with the guilt and hopelessness, she didn’t give up. Even when I took her love for granted and tried to push her away, she didn’t give up on me. And when I couldn’t look at my own reflection because I’d hated myself so much and couldn’t allow myself to be forgiven; she was the one to bring the love and forgiveness to me.

"Darry," I whispered, watching the smile creep over her lips before I took her face gently in my hands and let my mouth press against hers.

* * *

He didn’t give me enough time to warn him. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to feel and I wasn’t prepared for the physical differences in him. His once slim stature had filled out more and had become more solid. I could feel the muscles that had developed in his back through his shirt as we hugged, no doubt due to the rigorous training he’d been going through the last half year. His grip was fierce but still, no amount of military training could ever take away that tender heart of Sodapop’s. He clung to me greedily as I did him, and then his eyes shifted as he turned to look down the hall. There was no time to warn him.

"My room," I choked, trying to get used to the feeling of my heart beating again, knowing that his was about to break.

I followed him; watched him like it was a dream come true along with a nightmare that seemed to congeal and stick together. I watched the playful way Sodapop tiptoed up to the side of the bed that was once reserved for him. I watched and swallowed hard as he leaned over his brother, taking a deep breath— almost breathing him in. And I watched as Soda peeled back the blankets that were hiding his baby brother from him. I watched as the colour drained from his face and the twinkle dampened from his eyes. I waited for his anger, blame, anything, but it seemed I’d forgotten who my brother was over the last six months that he’d been away. It didn’t come.

Sodapop stood back rubbing the scar on the right side of his forehead absently as confusion covered his features. He looked at me quickly shaking his head, but I couldn’t speak. Soda looked back down at Ponyboy with his eyebrows furrowed, and started to slowly take off his uniform.

I stood dumbfounded; a strange interest taking shape as I watched more intently than I ever had before as Soda crawled into bed next to his brother wearing his dog tags and standard issue boxer shorts; shoving an arm underneath his brother so he could bring him closer. He placed a series of tender kisses on the side of Pony’s face, and stroked his hair softly. Pony leaned into Soda’s hand in a motion that could only be described as sweet. Pony hummed gently under his breath, and I knew that even unconscious, he was aware of Soda’s presence.

"Did I do this to him?"

Soda’s eyes were pained as the reality of the state our brother was in, fell on Soda’s shoulders instead of just my own. I lowered myself slowly, sitting on the bottom corner of the bed not knowing how to answer my brother. I thought about my own struggles, and knew it wasn’t right to solely lay Soda’s departure as the reason Pony was failing. Life had failed our brother, and us along with it. But I didn’t know how to answer Soda. I didn’t even know how or why or for how long he was home for. Part of me still thought I was in some drunken stupor and imagining everything. I didn’t know anything anymore.

Soda managed to curl even closer to Ponyboy; pressing his face up against the side of Pony’s before quietly breaking down. I felt a certain emptiness knowing that our family was falling apart and nobody was left to hold it together. Soda’s solemn cries broke what was left of my heart, and my stomach started it’s painful squeeze, and I swallowed the usual nausea that came with it down hard.

"I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry I left you guys!" Soda whispered, and I could only bow my head and watch as my own tears splattered onto the palms of my hands while I stared at them blankly.

"I was so wrong to have done that to you. I’m so sorry."

My stomach pulled again, and I knew I was in deep as I broke out into a cold sweat and my hands started shaking. I tried to be as discreet as I could when I got up from the bed and then headed for the bathroom. I flipped the lid up as soon as my knees hit the tile on the floor, and everything I tried to change; everything I tried to make better but couldn’t, bled into the toilet along with the bile.

I startled when I heard the door to the bathroom close, but couldn’t look up as my gut felt like it was strangling itself. I gripped the seat of the toilet, and tried to slow my breathing down when the sink turned on, and suddenly there was a strong hand holding a cool wet rag to my forehead. I turned my head and found Tim Shepard on the floor next to me, watching me carefully.

"You do this a lot?" He asked intently as he dragged the cloth away from my forehead. And when I didn’t answer, "how long?" was his next question.

Tim Shepard never struck me as the type to give a rat’s ass about anyone or anything. He’d been downright stoic when it came to his own brother and sister, so I felt a strange sense of curiosity to find him crouched down on my bathroom floor with me while my life was falling apart.

"Easy," he placed the wet rag on the back of my neck while my stomach heaved one more time. "Anyone else know about this?"

I spit the last of my sickness into the bowl, and sat back on my haunches to look at Tim. I grabbed the wet rag from the back of my neck and held it out for him. He shook his head so I let it fall to the floor.

"Nobody knows? Great plan, Curtis. And when you’re fuckin’ dead from bleedin’ out, what happens to that little brother of yours? Let him get sent off to be another sick fuck’s plaything?"

I felt my heart clench with the thought. There was nothing I could say to that. I wiped hurriedly at my eyes and then looked back at Tim.

"This shit’s outta control. You been to a doctor?"

 _Technically, even though it was three thousand years ago._

I looked up, and pointed silently to the medicine chest above the sink. While Tim stood up to investigate, I placed the lid to the toilet down, and sat on it after flushing.

"This help?" Tim looked at me skeptically as he handed me the prescription of antacid.

"Sorta…" I mumbled while I unscrewed the cap from the bottle, and drank as though it were to quench my thirst.

Tim’s eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, no problems here. Gimme that."

He grabbed the bottle from me after I’d replaced the cap, and put it back where he’d found it. He huffed out a breath as he looked at his own reflection before looking down at his own hands. I wondered what he’d been thinking of right then. I wondered what happened to him in his life that made him so cold, but then it lambasted me like a ton of rocks. It was the same thing that was happening to me now.

"You wanna drink?" He asked matter-of-factly as he turned and leaned up against the sink. His eyes bore through me.

"You offerin’?" I huffed a laugh, trying to be smart, but Tim’s expression was stone. It sobered me instantly.

"No." I lied.

"You’re a shit liar, Curtis."

"Then why’d you fuckin’ ask if you’re so Goddamned smart?" His calmness was irritating the shit out of me.

"To see if you’d lie," he shrugged smugly. "And I _am_ smart. Fuckin’ smarter than your dumb ass, that’s for sure."

"Is that a fact, now? Look, you can get the hell out of here whenever the mood suits you, pal!"

"Can’t," he frowned with that same calm, cool, collective tone. "You need me."

"Yeah, sure," I rolled my eyes.

"You’re so fuckin’ weak." Tim snarled, and I felt my fists ball up.

A piece of me I’d long forgotten, found it’s way to the surface as I stood up from the toilet and over Tim Shepard. I caught the sly grin at the corner of his mouth, and wondered what the hell was the matter with him.

He’d fought by my side; the two of us ending the life of my brother’s monster. He’d pulled me out of a drug and alcohol induced haze; covered my ass when I couldn’t function. He even tried to give me hope that my brother wouldn’t get slaughtered in Vietnam. Now it felt like he was pulling the rug out from beneath my feet with nothing to hold onto.

"You know what makes you weak, Curtis?" His eyes were steel as he tried to stare me down. "Those ungrateful bastards your momma bore after you. Everything you’ve done for them…" he tsked his disapproval while shaking his head. "Don’t amount to shit, does it?"

"Don’t _ever_ talk about my brothers that way," I warned him through clenched teeth; red bleeding through everything in my vision.

"What the fuck you plan to do about it? You lost your balls when that scumbag took your brother’s cherry."

And then I couldn’t see anything but rage. The door to the bathroom was left hanging off of one hinge as I dragged Tim through the house to the front door by the hair on the back of his head. He landed on his back with a strange look of triumph on his face when I threw him through the screen door and off the front porch into the yard. This time there were different nerves of mine that were exposed, and I couldn’t do anything to calm them.

"You ready?" Tim egged me on, getting to his feet while I charged down the porch steps.

"You fucking _asshole!_ "

My arms were swinging violently, and there was no relief until my fists made contact with Shepard. He winced and groaned with every strike that landed, and it didn’t dawn on me why he wasn’t stepping out of the way.

"C’mon, big guy! Show me whatcha got!" Tim smiled; his mouth swollen and bleeding from where I’d caught him with a left hook.

He looked crazier than a mad hatter, but I was still so enraged over his comments about Ponyboy that I couldn’t stop. It wasn’t until I heard Two-Bit hollering for help from the porch, that I thought to slow down. Tim wasn’t having that though, and just when I thought he was winding up to let me have a taste of my own poison, my brother came flying off the steps in his underwear; tackling Tim Shepard to the ground.

Sodapop was straddling Tim’s chest when his right fist connected with Tim’s nose. I heard the crunch, and something seemed to click. I had a flash of a memory of two best friends kicking the snot out of each other when life had gotten too much for them. I remembered the stupidity of it all; Dallas Winston slashing the tires of Tim’s beloved T-bird because he was lost, but knew Tim could bring him back if he coaxed him to.

"Christ, kid!" Tim blocked the second shot from Soda, and I made my way to the heap that was the two of them on the front lawn.

"Easy, little buddy. It’s okay." I was out of breath; my body aching from exertion as I pulled Sodapop off of Tim.

"What the _fuck?_ " Soda was in near tears as he wiggled out of my hold to turn around and check me over. "Darry, you okay?"

I let Soda muss and fuss over me while my eyes stayed glued to Tim as he got up from the dirt and brushed himself off. He nursed his nose, bleeding and broken thanks to my younger brother coming to my supposed rescue. After he set it straight, he looked at me and smiled.

"Glad to see you back, Darry. We good?"

I rolled my eyes and felt a smile that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I looked at the confused expression on my brother’s face and huffed out a laugh to the sky before nodding my head.

"As long as you don’t fuckin’ pull that garbage again. Yeah, I’m alright. We’re good.""

And that day I was, because as crazy as Tim’s plan was, it was the best therapy I could’ve asked for. His method was as crooked as that scar across the left side of his face, but it stirred something in me I’d lost when I’d thought I’d lost my brother—the will to keep fighting. Because I knew the truth, and it was always there though I may have forgotten.

My brothers didn’t make me weak. My brothers made me strong.


	36. Thirty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Darry, what’s goin’ on?"

Soda’s gentle pleading made me look up from the blood and tissue hanging off the knuckles of my right hand, and up into a pair of soft brown eyes—our mother’s eyes, drenched in love and concern. It kills me a little every time; reminding me how much I miss her, but even more, it reminds me how much I’ve missed him.

"Don’t worry ‘bout it. It was nothing." I shrugged a shoulder loosely as I nodded in appreciation when Soda brought the pack of ice up to my hand and held it gently.

"You kickin’ the piss outta Shepard ain’t what I’d call nothin’, Darry."

I brought my less injured hand up and let it drag over Soda’s cropped hair. His hair was shorter than I remember it ever being; even shorter than mom made him keep it when he was little. I wondered how he felt while sitting in that barber chair while they took the clippers to him. Soda had always loved his hair.

"I know, it looks lousy."

Soda became self-conscious as my fingers played around in the short strands. I would’ve laughed at him if I weren’t so bloody tired. I’d never once seen Soda self-conscious about his looks. He knew damned well what he looked like and the effect it had on most people that were around him. My brother could be bald, and he’d still have all the good looks and charm of the family. Soda would always be beautiful.

"Like you’ve ever looked bad a day in your pathetic life. Besides, it’ll grow back," I mumbled absently, thinking back on the day Soda decided to get his hair cut short for Ponyboy. But even then, it hadn’t been quite this short.

Soda grinned, maybe thinking back on that day too. Life wasn’t simple, but we had our brother, and we had each other. It was the three of us against the world, and although we’d already been to hell and back together, it didn’t matter because we _were_ together. We had hope.

"What are you even _doing_ here?" It still hadn’t hit me. Seeing my brother sitting on the bathroom floor in front of me was so surreal, especially after everything that had happened that week.

"I got special leave. They were ready to send me overseas. I called…I told ya I would. I called to let you know I was gettin’ shipped out, and Two-Bit said you were gone…you were missin’. Darry, what’s goin’ on? I was so scared somethin’ happened to you. Where were you, Darry? Where the hell were you?"

I shook my head speechless—ashamed. I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t know how to start that conversation we needed to have. I didn’t know how Soda would react knowing the shitload of trouble I’d gotten myself into, and that scared me. It had been easy avoiding my own reflection in the mirror these past six months, but I knew avoiding Soda wouldn’t be as easy.

"I guess it’s a long story." I tried to smile, but I knew it didn’t turn out that way.

"Darry…" Sodapop cocked his head, urging me on but I couldn’t just yet. We had a lot to share; a ton to discuss, but it didn’t feel like quite the right time. There was something more important needing our attention.

"C’mere," My voice was hoarse as I grabbed Soda’s wrist, forcing him to drop the ice pack that he was holding to my knuckles.

I just wanted to hold him. I wanted to hold him without the shock and surprise of his unexpected arrival. I wanted to hug my brother and not take it for granted. Sodapop had always been more than just my younger brother; he’d always been my best friend. Even with the pains of growing up in the same small house and the close proximity where we’d get on each other’s nerves about a hundred times a week, I loved my brother fiercely because of that friendship we shared. He always had my back—even when we were at odds with each other, and I always had his.

His head rested on my shoulder after I’d pulled him in, and I let my hand curl around his neck to hold him there. I felt myself relax when he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed; a feeling I hadn’t felt in months if not years. For once I didn’t feel on edge. I had my family, complete and under the same roof.

"Sorry, guys." Two-Bit and Tim Shepard were in the broken doorway looking down at us. "Was gonna help Tim clean up."

"First aid kit’s in the medicine chest." My voice was thick as I closed my eyes and felt Soda squeeze me harder.

My hand fell from his neck, and stroked up and down his back before squeezing him in return. He pulled away slowly, and I noticed the tears that spilled from him. He started wiping his eyes impatiently, looking at me apologetically. I smiled at him, wondering if the army would ever be able to beat him down enough where he’d stop wearing that big heart of his on his sleeve.

"Need any help?" I looked up as Two-Bit eased into the bathroom.

I felt like I should’ve been the one to fix Tim’s nose, or at the very least grab some ice for that swollen lip of his. I managed to make it to my feet so I could help, but my brother whom I thought I’d never see again had followed my lead; holding my hand in a vice-like grip with his. He started tugging on my arm.

"S’alright, Darry. I knew what I was doing. I just didn’t think your little brother packed as big a punch as you did." Tim grinned ruefully.

"He’s my brother," I gave Tim a grin back. "Of course he does."

"Stupid me," Tim shrugged, turning his attention to Two-Bit who’d found the kit from where I’d directed.

"When you’re done with that half-pint, I’m next in line for a hug, Soda." Two-Bit sounded wistful, but started laughing like a hyena when Soda blew him an over-exaggerated kiss.

"Just keep your hands off my ass this time, ya pervert." Soda grinned which only served to egg Two-Bit on even more.

"Now Soda, y’know my mama taught me never to make promises I couldn’t keep."

"Yeah? Well your mama told _me_ if you start gettin’ fresh, I should kick you in the nuts."

Tim looked on in amusement as two friends started to laugh at each other.

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide a grin. "I thought I missed this…"

It took three seconds for things to seem like they were back to normal. Except some things _weren’t_ back to normal. Steve was still gone, I still wanted a drink, and Ponyboy had no idea that his brother had come home, and none other than Soda knew for how long. But I felt Soda tug on me again, and for that moment things felt alright.

"Darry, c’mon." Sodapop urged quietly; giving my hand an affectionate squeeze while pulling me along with him down the hall and interrupting my thoughts.

"You sure you want me here? You two need some time alone."

Soda shook his head knowingly. "I dunno why I didn’t listen to you. I should’ve. If I’m the reason he looks like a bag of bones…"

Soda stopped at the door to my room and covered his face in his hands, trying to summon up his courage. My heart ached for him because I knew what he was feeling; I was just as guilty if not more. There was so much to figure out between the three of us, but it would have to wait. Right now, it was time to reunite these two brothers.

"C’mon, little buddy. He needs you." I rubbed Soda’s shoulder, urging him to take another step.

He nodded and seemed to shake off what ever it was that was holding him back. He tiptoed back over to the bed, but took my usual side instead; peeling off those blankets before laying next to Ponyboy. I shut the door behind me and cautiously made my own way to the bed, but I sat back down at the foot of it; facing my brothers. Supporting them and bearing witness to the fact that these two just couldn’t function properly without the other close by.

"Pony…" Soda’s voice was soft as he ran his fingers through his brother’s hair. "Hey, sweetpea. Wake up for me, ‘kay?"

Pony didn’t even stir until Sodapop placed a gentle kiss on his brother’s temple and held it. Pony shook his head weakly before prying his eyes open like his eyelids weighed a ton. They closed again. Soda grabbed Pony’s hand and kissed it firmly.

"C’mon, Pone. Ain’tcha even gonna say hi?" He was crying.

"Soda?" Pony’s expression was confused as he groaned.

"You go ‘n get yourself a girl while I been gone, Pony? Baby, who else’d be kissin’ on ya?"

Pony weakly pulled his hand back and let it drag across his face; rubbing his eyes half-hazard in an effort to get them open. I could see every movement Pony made took about everything it had in him; he was weak enough that it scared the shit out of me. I realized then that I’d have to swallow my pride and keep my promise to Beth. My brother needed a doctor, and there was only one good enough to help my brother.

"C’mon, honey, come say hi to me. I missed the shit outta ya, Pony. Wake up! C’mon, please!" Soda sniffed back more tears while he kissed his brother’s face again, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Soda?" I could see Pony struggle, and I was ready to make the call.

"Yeah, Pony it’s me. I miss ya; come say hi."

"You two stay put." I ordered knowing neither of them were going to move.

"Where ya goin’?" Soda turned his head, watching as I eased up from the bed.

"Making a quick call. I’ll be right back."

My chest hammered as I made my way for the phone in the living room. I grabbed the cradle and made my way for my chair where I let out a huff of resignation as the receiver was pinched between my shoulder and my ear. I sunk into the chair and dialled; part of me praying that Greg would be able to answer my plea to help with Ponyboy, and part of me still wanting to knock his block off for interfering in family business.

I knew deep down that I was being ridiculous and unfair. Sodapop choosing to confide in Greg instead of me was still burning, and I knew I was jealous of their friendship when I shouldn’t have been. Greg saved Pony’s life. That was all the reason Soda needed to stay connected; look up to, and admire Greg.

"Hello?"

A groggy voice spoke on the other line, and I’d almost forgotten who I’d called.

"Yeah, Greg?"

"Mmmhmmm."

"You awake?"

"Yeah, I am now. Who’s this?" His voice sounded beat, and I figured he may have just gotten off a shift.

"It’s Darry. I…I’m…I’m sorry I woke you." I stammered, starting to change my mind and back out of my promise to Beth.

"No, it’s okay Darry. What’s going on?"

I could tell from his voice that he was wide awake now, and I rolled my eyes at myself. Greg was a great friend to have for my family, and I was stupid to ever think otherwise. But I also felt a sense of guilt for bothering him while he needed to rest. He lived with his own set of burdens that were placed heavily on his shoulders. I knew saving lives for a living came with its own costs to him.

"Darry, are things okay?"

"No. I’m sorry I’m waking you up."

"Is it Pony?"

"Yeah." I sighed, not bothering to get into any details. Greg would figure things out soon enough on his own.

"I’m on my way, Darry. Hang tight."

"Greg…" I didn’t know what I was going to say, but another apology crossed my mind.

"Darry, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a bit."

I placed the receiver back onto the cradle when Greg hung up, and I sighed. I could hear Tim swearing at Two-Bit in the bathroom, and I thought to check in on them when my stomach gave that old familiar pull that took my breath away, and I thought about Ponyboy. There were so many things that had happened to him, and just like his big brothers he was trying to deal with everything on his own. I winced and my stomach twisted as I thought about him pressed up against the corner wall of my bedroom. We did that to him, and I wasn’t sure how to make it up to him but I did know one thing…

… "Darry, come quick!"

The desperation in Soda’s voice broke me out of my thoughts and I was on my feet, making my way back to my room. Shepard and Two-Bit were blocking the doorway, and I shoved my way through to find that Soda had hauled Ponyboy up into what looked like a hug, only Pony’s body looked limp and lifeless.

"Dammit, Pony! I hate it when you do this. Breathe, Pony! Come on!"

"Holdin’ his breath?" I quickly made my way around the bed, already reading the tell-tale signs.

I could see Soda start to panic as he nodded his reply. I could see how scared he was even though he’d been right there with me the first time we’d seen Pony do this. Unfortunately, there was no hospital with it’s doctors and nurses to back us up this time, and I knew the only way to get Pony through this was to keep a level head and slowly guide him out of his episode.

"Holy shit," I heard Tim say under his breath, and when I looked up towards the door, I noticed that Two-Bit was holding him back to give us room.

"Pony, stop it! You’re scarin’ me. Come on, now." Soda was dragging his hand over the side of Pony’s face as it rested against his shoulder, and looked at me when Pony gurgled.

"Okay, you two. Take it easy. It’s gonna be alright."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I sat down with my brothers. It was hard to see Pony with his face tucked into Soda’s neck, but a quick glimpse of the pale but pink tinge of his mouth told me all I needed to know. His breaths were shallow, but they were still there. I started to rub his back and shoulders roughly, and caught the relieved huff that Soda let out before planting another kiss to the side of his brother’s face.

"I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry." Soda’s voice was hushed as he chanted between breaths.

"Easy, little buddy." I offered what I could for comfort as I ran a hand through Soda’s hair; not wanting my brother to carry the same guilt that had slowly been eating away at me.

"Soda? Where’s Darry?"

"He’s right behind ya, kiddo."

"Darry?" Pony tried, but he couldn’t lift his head from his brother’s shoulder.

"Shhhh…" I scooted closer, huddling in behind Pony and leaning my forehead against his shoulder.

"Don’t go. Please, don’t go." Pony started to cry, and I reached around making sure my arms encircled both of my brothers.

I wasn’t sure which one of us he was pleading to; probably the both of us. My eyes shifted and made contact with Tim Shepard’s. He nodded calmly, somehow knowing my struggle. I felt the sweat break from my forehead and thanked whoever was responsible that Shepard was there. He was the only thing keeping me from drinking. I choked down a sob when I was able to swallow my truth.


	37. Thirty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"How long is he stayin’?" Soda asked with a huge sigh as he sat down beside me on the front steps.

I looked at Soda, not knowing which one of our guests he was talking about. Between us all, it was a houseful, and not only did I have to figure out what to feed my brothers, I needed to feed the other guests as well.

"How long is who stayin’?" My hand automatically shot out; touching Soda to make sure he was real, and not some drunken hallucination.

"Tim," Soda practically whispered. "He’s givin’ me the heebeejeebees."

I snorted. "Why? You two get along, don’tcha?" I let my shoulder bump into Soda’s.

"He’s watchin’ you like a hawk. It’s weird. What the hell’s goin’ on, Darry?"

My stomach clenched like a fist, and I held my breath until it eased up. I noticed Soda looking over at the front window and when I followed his gaze, sure enough Tim was standing there; eyes glued.

"Nothin’, little buddy. He’s just hangin’ out for a bit." I tried to make it like Tim’s presence wasn’t a big thing.

"Tim comes over to sleep off a late night fight and then leaves without sayin’ boo. We ain’t exactly his type of people, Darry. We ain’t his gang. We ain’t friends." Soda shrugged and looked at me confused.

"Tim _is_ a friend, Soda. He don’t mean no harm. He’s just here to help."

I started picking at the dry skin around my fingernails while avoiding the questioning look I knew was on my brother’s face. We had so much to talk about, but Greg was in my bedroom checking Pony over, Soda was home from a war he hadn’t even fought in yet, and I could feel there was a yet to that fact, and I was still one big mess.

"Is he back? Oh my God, Darry! I thought y’all took care of him!" Soda started to get worked up, and it didn’t dawn on me why.

"What are you talkin’ ‘bout?" I looked at him confused.

" _Him_!" Soda looked at me pointedly; his body lifting up from the steps in complete fear. "Is he back for Pony? Is he around? Is that why Tim’s here; so that sicko can’t get to Pony? Oh my, God! Oh my, God! Is that why Pony’s so sick, Darry? Did he get to him again? Oh my, God!" Soda started hyperventilating.

" _What_?" I was so wrapped up in my own problems, it didn’t dawn on me what Soda was blubbering about.

"GODDAMMIT, DARRY!" Soda was beside himself. "YOU PROMISED ME HE WAS GONE!"

I felt the blood drain from my face when it finally dawned on me why my brother was in hysterics. The last time Soda had known about Tim standing guard at our house was when Campbell was seen snooping around the neighbourhood. My hands started shaking, and I felt myself break out in a cold sweat thinking back on that night and how the both of my brothers suffered.

"Oh, God! Soda, no…it ain’t nothin’ like that. I swear, Soda!"

I was on my feet, my hands trembling while they held my brother’s face. It horrified me to think that Sodapop still believed Martin Campbell was still able to break into our lives.

We were both shaking, but for vastly different reasons. I looked at my brother as I held his face in my hands, and hated myself a little more. I shook my head; not able to get the words out, and it only served to get Sodapop even more worked up.

"He’s back, ain’t he?" Soda couldn’t be convinced otherwise, and it became very clear of the conversation that was past due.

I let a hand slide to Soda’s neck and gave a gentle squeeze while I led him back to the steps. I slumped down, looking at Soda expectantly to follow, but he didn’t. I reached out for his hand and tugged him until he was sitting to my left. I wrapped an arm around him protectively and leaned down to press my forehead against his hair. My voice was surprisingly calm.

"He’s dead, Soda. With my own hands and Tim’s. This is something you don’t ever have to worry about. Ever. Savvy?"

Soda nodded reluctantly; his hand wiping his eyes in frustration while he swallowed the reality of what I was telling him. He was confused; of course he was. He had no idea the disaster I’d created; the disaster I’d become. He had no idea I’d abandoned everything important just to find an ounce of numbing peace inside of a whiskey bottle.

"He’s here for me. He’s here to keep me straight." I blurted; deciding that ripping the bandaid off quickly would lessen the sting in the long run.

"Keep you straight," Soda repeated; the curious look on his face was almost enough to break me into a fit of laughter. "What does that even mean, Darry?"

I huffed nervously, wringing my own hands in my lap apprehensively because I had no idea how he was going to react.

"I fucked up, Soda."

"Fucked up? Darry, what’s goin’ on? Tell me; it’s okay."

"He’s makin’ sure I don’t fall off the wagon." I tried to grin, but there was nothing amusing about my confession or my problem.

"Off the wagon…" Soda repeated in a whisper; his eyebrows furrowed while he stared at my lips like he was trying to read them as though he’d misheard what I’d said.

"Tim’s makin’ sure I don’t drink my ass off again." I cleared my throat, waiting for it to hit my brother.

"You never drink," Soda frowned. "What are you…what are you talkin’ about?"

I shrugged weakly; my eyes trying to say what my mouth didn’t have the courage to. Soda just stared at me, waiting for me to explain but all I could do was shake my head, wanting for the whole conversation to end. But it was too late, just like it was too late to go back to that first drink and turn it away.

"Darry," his voice was firm and his eyes narrowed.

"I don’t know what to say. I…I don’t know what to tell you." I felt my tears slip as I shook my head at my brother, desperate for him to say something—anything.

"Where were you?" Soda’s voice was steady and controlled.

"Drunk and passed out. Shacked up with some girl who’s in no better shape than me. I blacked out, I guess. Tim found me."

"You left Pony by his lonesome." It was a statement.

"I left him with Keith." I answered, as if the fact made it less despicable that I’d abandoned our baby brother and put him in the state he was in now.

"You’re a drunk? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?" Soda covered his face in his hands before looking back at me. "Jesus Christ, Darry? Why?"

"I just…" I shrugged helplessly, wishing I knew a way to explain. "I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore, Soda."

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt paralyzed. It seemed so strange to be sitting there as lost as a child, when it wasn’t that long ago my life made sense; I had all of the answers.

"I feel so lost; like I don’t even know who I am anymore."

And I cried in spite of myself because there was nothing else to do. I covered my face with my hands in shame because I only had myself to blame for everything that had happened to not just my family, but our friends as well.

And then I felt him grab my hand and squeeze it. His other hand moved over, and he held onto mine; one hand on top and the other beneath mine, simply because he was Soda. Soda’s capacity to forgive and love even though I knew I didn’t deserve it left me conflicted. It felt like a wave of relief followed by another wave of guilt.

"I’m so sorry, Darry." Soda lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, and I felt like crying harder. "You ain’t alone, Darry. You got me and Pony, and Steve, Two-Bit…Tim!"

I shook my head, trying to get ahold of my emotions. I could feel the tremble of wanting to lose myself in another bottle because I didn’t want to feel like shit anymore.

"When you gonna stop blamin’ yourself?" Soda grabbed my hand back in his own and held it even tighter.

"Well, it ain’t exactly like I was forced to take a drink…"

"That ain’t what I’m talkin’ about, Darry. You gotta let it go. You gotta stop carryin’ that night around. You made a mistake; you were scared and you hit Pony. You were scared, Darry. We both were. You didn’t mean it! Please, Darry! You gotta let it go!"

"It’s all my fault! I was supposed to protect him! I’m supposed to protect you both…" and my voice seemed to give out after that.

"Darry…shhhh," Soda pulled me into him; my head resting on his shoulder with my face buried in his neck while I let the warmth of his arms surround me.

"Me and Pony love you so much…so much, Darry. It ain’t your fault. It was just a stupid mistake; we all messed up. It wasn’t you, Darry. You’re everything to us, ya dig? You’re everything, Darry. You gotta let it go. It ain’t your fault what happened to Pony."

It was odd. I knew my brothers never once held me responsible for the events that took place after that night I still prayed I could erase from our lives. I knew they didn’t think it was my fault, but for the first time _since_ that night I felt like I could breathe. It wasn’t surprising my peace would come from the soft, comforting arms and words of Sodapop. His heart was as deep as the ocean; his loyalty as strong as the tides. I thanked God and my parents for gifting him into my life.

"I’m sorry, Darry." Soda’s voice was as soothing as his arms.

"Sorry for what? You got nothin’ to be sorry for." I sniffed, but held onto Soda a bit tighter.

"Don’t I?" Soda pulled away. "I left. Y’know, I forget sometimes that you got your own problems ‘cause you’re Superman. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here for you."

And a weight settled in my gut with the question I had to have answered. "You hafta go back, don’t you?"

Soda nodded sadly.

"When?" My body clenched, waiting those long seconds for his answer.

"They gave me five days to get my affairs in order."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, we best not waste any time then, huh?"

Soda shook his head, but I could tell he was dealing with his own mistake; his own guilt.

"Soda?"

Soda’s eyes shot up; his look questioning.

"We’ll figure it out," I rubbed his back, hoping to offer him even a fraction of the comfort he’d just given me. "Together this time though, alright?"

* * *

"I like tomato better." Pony mumbled almost incoherently as he lifted his head from his brother’s shoulder to watch my approach.

"Shush, Pony. You eat up, and I mean it." Soda scolded his brother, but it didn’t sound very threatening.

"Alright, alright. Stop gabbin’." I grinned as I sat down on the coffee table in front of my brothers holding the bowl of soup Greg had made.

"What is it?" Pony muffled his question into his brother.

"Pony, it’s chicken noodle soup. C’mon, now." I urged, hopeful with his sudden energy to fight, but getting annoyed with his stubbornness just the same.

"How do I know it’s good?"

"Taste it, ding-a-ling!" I rolled my eyes.

"What if he cooks like Soda?"

"Hey! Why ya dragging me into this?" Soda laughed.

"I don’t want no green soup." Pony closed his eyes and sighed weakly. Sodapop laughed harder.

"Alright, ya little punk. You’re eating this; doctor’s orders."

Pony groaned his protest, but managed to straighten out and sit up while still having Sodapop wrapped around him, just where he needed him to be.

"If you could eat anything you wanted, what would it be, Pone?" Soda’s hand travelled through his brother’s hair while he watched Pony intently.

"Pizza," Pony frowned before opening his mouth for the spoonful of soup I lifted from the bowl. He swallowed slowly. "Pepperoni and mushroom."

"We’ll work up to that, Ponyboy. For now, fluids only. We feed him too fast it could do more harm than good." Greg sat down in my chair and watched on with concern.

It was only a cup, but Pony sipped at the spoonfuls slowly as I offered them. It took a bit of time, but Ponyboy eventually finished and curled into Sodapop again as he let his eyes close heavily.

"He okay, Greg?" Soda looked over at his friend carefully.

I stood from the coffee table and made my way to the kitchen to deposit the bowl and spoon into the sink where they would be washed. I was thankful to Greg; I would always be thankful, but my own feelings of inadequacy seemed to cloud my ability to share a room with the guy.

"I’d like it if he were in the hospital. He’s in rough shape, Soda. I think you know that already."

I made my way to the opening separating the kitchen from the living room, and looked over to my brothers; the dreadful truth haunting me.

"I can’t afford it."

"I know," Greg looked at me sadly. "But there’s only so much I can do here, Darry."

"I know," I whispered as I made my way back to the sofa where I sat next to my brothers; Pony conveniently wedged between Soda and I.

"When do you head back?" Greg eyed Soda.

"They gave me five days." Soda answered absently while he ruffled his fingers in Pony’s hair.

"Will you see combat?"

"They said five months on the frontline before they ship me off to spend the rest of my tour at an evac."

I watched my brother and Greg speak, and it was clear I had no idea about Soda’s life at all. I was clearly the outsider in this cast, and it took all I had in me not to explode.

"You’ll be with Steve?"

"Yes and no, I guess." Soda shrugged and I clenched my fist in an effort to not lose control.

"Does somebody wanna tell me what the fuck is goin’ on?" My voice was as low as I could manage, but I realized my breathing was laboured

"I fucked up too, Darry. Steve about lost his shit when I told him I joined after him."

"He didn’t know? I thought you were in on this together? You said..."

"You kiddin’? He was pissed when he found out. Said it wasn’t my place to leave when I had a family to take care of—two families." Soda choked, shaking his head. "They won’t let me out; I tried."

"Soda," I could’ve gave him the whole ‘ _I told you so_ ’ speech, but we were past that now.

"I made some calls," Greg broke in. "Got him into Fort Sam…"

"Houston," I interrupted knowingly.

"My glowing reviews couldn’t get him out of serving. I’m sorry, Darry. But as a medic, he has a better chance of making it home in one piece."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I looked from Sodapop to Greg, waiting for an answer from either of them while my frustration rose to an intolerable level.

"Greg wanted to. I just…I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted you to be proud of me; to think I could handle things on my own."

" _Didn’t want me to worry_?" I bolted up from the couch, incredulous. "Soda Patrick Curtis, you’re my brother! My _little_ brother, and you always will be. It don’t matter how old and grey you get, I’ll always worry! I’ll always look out for you! I’ll always protect you! It was _my_ job to go to Vietnam, not yours!"

"Darry, no. It was your job to stay behind and protect Ponyboy."

"Yeah, well look how great a job I did at that, huh? We’re lucky he’s alive. I’m not _you_ goddammit! You are, and have always been the answer to _everything_ him."

"Guys…" Greg tried to interject, but there was apparently more that my brother needed to let go of.

"But I can’t protect him like you can!" Soda cried. "I had one chance, and I blew it, Darry! Why can’t you understand?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"HE TOOK HIM!" Soda yelled as he clung to his brother sobbing. "I just…I just laid there. I didn’t even say anything."

The air had been sucked out of me along with any desire to fight. I stood there ashamed. We should’ve dealt with this; we should’ve had this discussion already, but we were too busy pretending to be strong, we didn’t see the signs that we were really just falling apart.

"Soda," my breath rushed out of me with his name, but he wasn’t quite finished.

"He made me watch. He made me watch, Darry and I didn’t do anything. I just laid there wanting to die. Pony was crying for me and I didn’t do anything. I just laid there and held his hand."

My feet drug across the floor as they took me to him. I sat bewildered; heart thumping through my ribs like a battlefield of soldiers crossing enemy lines. I couldn’t say anything; there were no words in the universe that would offer any comfort to my brother. I could only press my face and my body to his. I could only wrap my arms around him while he held onto Pony, and pray that that was enough to let him know that I understood, and there was nothing that would stop me from loving him.

"I held his hand…" Soda hiccuped through his anguish, and I held onto him and his brother tighter.

"Shhhh…it’s alright, little buddy. It’s gonna be okay. The truth is finally out." I whispered only hoping that the truth would somehow set us free.

"I just laid there, Darry…"

"Shhhh…" I continued to hold my brother’s tight to me. "He was gonna hurt you too, Pepsi. You were afraid and that’s okay. It’s okay."

"Pony didn’t let him…" Soda sobbed, and I kissed his forehead.

"I know, little buddy. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. He’s dead. He can’t hurt us anymore.” I whispered, remembering how distraught Soda had been telling me about that night. But he’d failed to mention the most horrific part.

I never believed in monsters, not even as a kid. I knew there were people out there, that for the most part lived troubled lives through troubled times, but I figured there was a rhyme and reason to the bad things and the bad decisions they made. I stood side-by-side with the likes of Dallas Winston and Tim Shepard. They were products of the hard lives they lived, but they weren’t bad. They weren’t monsters, ready to climb out from underneath the bed, intent on causing pain. Then Martin Campbell entered the picture, and I began to learn quickly that monsters _did_ in fact exist. There were monsters in real life that took debauched pleasure out of doing unspeakable things that caused never ending pain and nightmares. It shook me to the core.

"Not your fault,"

Pony’s voice croaked out weakly as his head slowly moved from Sodapop’s shoulder to look at him. Soda stared at his brother in disbelief, but Pony shook his head.

"Not your fault, Sodapop. I love you."

"I…" Soda started to scramble for words, but once again Ponyboy showed us why he was the strongest of us three.

"I love you. Don’t…just don’t, Sodapop. I love you. I’d never let anything happen to you. Wasn’t gonna let him do to you what he did to me."

Pony kissed the corner of his brother’s mouth, then dropped his head back on Soda’s shoulder weakly. Soda being Soda, hugged his little brother fiercely while he cried harder.

"You heard the man," I sniffed back my own tears. "You can quit tryin’ to punish yourself now. Maybe now we can both stop punishing ourselves."

We sat huddled together on the couch. Tim and Two-Bit had made their way in; standing as awkward as Greg had been, not knowing what to do or say. I felt drained; more so than when I was plagued with the guilt and hopelessness that I’d destroyed what was left of my family, but unlike before I felt a light shine warmly across my soul. In my arms were the two most important things in my life. I still had them. Even through all of the shit we still needed to wade through, I still had them and they still had me. We still had each other.

"I love you too, Darry." Pony rasped, breaking me from my reflection.

"I know, kiddo." I smiled as I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Ditto."


	38. Thirty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

I sat at the table, vaguely aware of Two-Bit’s shenanigans from the living room; entertaining both Tim Shepard and the good Doctor Allain while I picked and chewed absently on my fingernails. I wasn’t ignoring them on purpose, or at least I didn’t think so at the time, but a lot of deep scarring had made its way to the surface and I was still trying to let it settle.

I tried not to think about it, but the attempt was futile. Everything about that night still lingered around us. Everything Martin Campbell had put us through hadn’t left. I could still hear my brothers’ cries for each other echo in my head. But now instead of seeing them huddled together at the doorway of our home, I pictured one’s fingers curled desperately into the others’; unable to do anything more while a monster mauled and thrusted into what was never his to take. I stared at my hands, remembering the blood that coated them. A quick glance up at the ceiling and a sort of pride settled into me. I’d taken care of it. It was late, and irreparable damage had been done to both of my brothers, but I’d taken care of it.

I’d watched Campbell’s face as I let Eric’s knife tear into him, leaving his repulsive body useless to cause any further torture to my brother or anyone else. I’d seen his face, watched his eyes as the realization that he wasn’t going to make it out alive, covered his features. It’d given me relief to know Martin Campbell was dead, but the aftermath was still a work in progress. Ponyboy was living it every day; forever changed, not knowing who he was anymore. And Sodapop…Sodapop. At one point, leaving me to wonder if he’d ever grow up. Now he had more weight and responsibilities on his shoulders than I’d ever had. He’d seen Campbell’s worst the night he held his brother’s hand. He’d been forced to witness that maggot as he took everything from Ponyboy. He’d never get over that night.

The fact that Sodapop carried his own guilt about what our little brother had to live through made me re-examine the blame I’d been putting on myself. I didn’t want Soda to end up like me. I didn’t want him carrying around that guilt; letting it eat away at his insides until his spirit was disintegrated or full of holes. Campbell had already stolen what he wanted from Pony. One brother was enough; he couldn’t have both. Soda would have to forgive himself, even if that meant I cut myself a break in return.

"Darry, you hanging in there?"

I broke out of my thoughts and looked up into a pair of blue-green eyes. I was still slightly irked by Greg’s influence on Soda, but knew it was only my own ego and jealousy talking.

I knew what I gave up when mom and dad died and I never cared. I could go through the same scenario a hundred times and not change a goddamned thing, because Soda and Ponyboy were worth it. They were what mattered the most to me. But as sure as I was, I still knew the truth; I wasn’t unfazed. I could’ve been Greg if the tides had been different. I could’ve gone on to college; worked my way through. I could’ve earned a degree. I could’ve been someone important. But the tides had changed for me with the dream remaining just what it was—a dream. And a small tug at my heart let me know that it was not all for nothing, and that I’d become someone even more important than I could’ve ever imagined, even if it was just for two boys.

"I’m so sorry, Darry. I know I should’ve come to you about Soda. I just…I tried not to get too involved. I tried to get him to talk to you, but things just happened so fast. By the time he made his move, it was already done."

"He looks up to you. He always will." My voice was steady, but lacking any incantation.

"But I’m not you." Greg let a hand touch my arm and he squeezed. "He’s been so worried about you, Darry. I think he’s been trying to spare you; trying to protect you."

I nodded and frowned. I knew it was true. Soda still saw himself as a screw-up; the high school dropout that got his girlfriend knocked up. He had about as much faith in himself as I had in me, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. I could’ve laughed if it weren’t such torture. Soda never saw what the rest of us saw. He was trying to deal with his life on his own, not wanting me to know he was struggling. He was alone until Greg entered the picture.

"You probably saved his life, doing what you did. You think he’ll pull it off?"

I tried to picture Sodapop as a medic, and couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. It wasn’t because I didn’t believe he was capable, or good enough. It was because he was still my little brother. Knowing that Soda would be out there bandaging and mending guys cut in half by bombs and ammunition left me awestruck. Greg was responsible. Five months on the frontline instead of two full tours. I could’ve cried from the relief.

"I wanted to get him out, but he’s stubborn. He didn’t want Steve out there on his own. Didn’t want to quit until he realized how long he’d be away from you and Pony. I’m sorry, Darry." Greg looked oddly distressed and suddenly all that jealousy I’d had, melted.

"You’ve been a great friend, Greg. I don’t know why you’ve done everything you’ve done, but…" thank you just didn’t seem like enough.

"After everything you guys have been through. I guess I’m a sucker for a happy ending."

 _A_ _happy_ _ending._ I wasn’t sure what that would look like for my family. I felt the crushing grip of my stomach squeezing so hard, I could barely keep from gasping. I held my breath; keeping my face stone until I could function without causing a scene.

"You don’t look well. I don’t mean to pry, but Beth mentioned you’ve not been well and I’d really like to help if I can, Darry."

I wondered in the back of my mind how specific Beth had gotten with her details of just what kind of shit I’d gotten myself into. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel offended or slighted, but I didn’t feel either. I loved Beth, and knew I’d hurt her. She and Greg were friends. It only made sense for her to talk to him.

"I appreciate that, Greg. I really do. But I ain’t sure you’re able to help." I stared at my fingers as I flexed them open.

"I can refer you to some programs. Schedule some meetings that’ll give you support."

Beth had told him everything. I rubbed my hand roughly across my jaw, ashamed.

"Take a look around you, Greg." I was able to give him a genuine smile. "Ain’t no AA meetings this side of Tulsa that’ll be of any help. Nobody gives a shit about the folks this side of the tracks."

" _I_ do." Greg squeezed my arm again and I believed him. "The chances of you beating this thing on your own are slim to none. You need support with this, Darry."

I nodded, knowing his words were truth. For a brief flash, I’d almost felt hopeless. For an instant I was ready to throw in the towel and head out to buy a bottle. But the knowing look was written all over Shepard’s face as he was suddenly standing on the other side of the table watching us.

"I’m not on my own." I nodded to Tim and he nodded back. "I have what I need, Greg but thank you. I mean it. I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for Ponyboy, and what you’re doing with Sodapop."

Greg looked up warily at Tim. "Darry…"

"We’re from the streets, Doc. This is what we know. You think some highfalutin’ therapy session’s gonna curb his need? I got this." Tim’s eyes were cold as he stared at Greg.

"What are you offering him that a _professional_ can’t?" Greg held Tim’s gaze with just as much intensity, and I suddenly found myself feeling extremely awkward, and yet somewhat amused by being in the middle of this tug-of-war.

"Tough love, Doc. I’ve got this. Your business is to take care of the other two, especially the little one."

The silence between the two of them was thick and uncomfortable, making me close my eyes until one of them was ready to back down. Not surprising, it was Greg who slowly stood from the table, his hand still holding my arm. My eyes opened, and I looked up at him as he reluctantly let go.

"I’ll go check on the boys."

"Thanks, Greg." I said sincerely.

"I just hope that you know what you’re doing, Darry. But I’m here for you either way."

I nodded, more to myself than anything as he headed for the boy’s room. Tim had slowly let himself sink into the chair Greg left, and eyed me carefully. I don’t know if he was thinking I’d change my mind, and take Greg up on his offer instead, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me.

"You trust me?" He eyed me with his usual cold stare.

I nodded. "He’s a good guy. Means well." I felt the need to defend Greg. He wasn’t the usual type of Soc we’d fought in the past.

Tim held his gaze and nodded very slowly.

"I don’t even know why you’re doing this, but I know well enough to keep my trap shut when I’m being given a gift." I rambled nervously, suddenly wanting that drink just to become indifferent to the awkwardness suddenly between us.

"I was eleven the first time I got hauled outta home. Neighbor called the cops cuz the parents were drunk; fighting. Had an aunt come grab Curly and Angie; they were real little, but I apparently was too much of a handful." I could hear his voice change as it purposely tried to hide how much that past rejection hurt him.

"Where’d you go?" I found myself asking before I could stop myself.

"Me?" Tim’s voice dripped with disdain as his hand gesticulated towards himself. "Well, I found myself in a great little foster home. Just one star above that one your brother ended up at, only cuz I didn’t get my head kicked in."

I think I’d stopped breathing just then as Tim grinned evilly to himself.

"Yeah, Mr. Ridell liked his boys young. Real young." Tim’s expression changed as he let himself be taken back to his own horror of a childhood.

"Holy Christ, Tim." I gasped under my breath.

"I would’ve killed to have a brother like you or Soda to keep me from bein’ who I am now."

I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to say to Tim. He’d spent the better part of his life in and out of juvie. I wondered how many monsters Tim had to fight off before becoming one himself.

"I drank a lot. I know what it’s like to want that numbness, Darry. You boys are too good for this shit; the lot of you."

"Tim…" I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

Tim Shepard was as tough and dangerous as they came. Never in a million years was I expecting this conversation with him at my dinner table. I couldn’t fathom that this don’t-give-a-shit hoodlum was two years younger than me, when really he was a hundred years old with the life he led.

"What can ya say, Curtis? First hundred years are the worst." He read my mind.

"Yeah," was as brilliant a response as I could come up with.

My head was still reeling from everything Tim had just told me. Tim and I had a mutual respect for one another from as far back as I remembered, but that didn’t necessarily make us friends. It seemed lately, more and more, Tim was not only a friend to me, but he was a damned good one at that.

"Why?" I asked, not bothering to elaborate. Something told me he’d know what I was asking.

Tim gave a slight grin as his cold eyes seemed to soften, albeit briefly as he regarded me as friendly as was possible for a guy like him.

"I guess I’m just a sucker for a happy ending."


	39. Thirty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"What’s _’BPOS’_ mean?"

"It’s my blood type, hon."

"And ‘ _PROTESTANT’_. Why’s it on these?"

I looked up from the paper and met Soda’s worried gaze. I’d pulled my chair into the boy’s room; wanting to be close to the both of them while still leaving them enough space to do what they always did—huddle together.

Soda was propped up in their bed with pillows supporting his newly acquired physique. His shoulders were a little broader; arms a bit bigger with the muscle he’d built from training. His chest looked a little thicker from beneath his white undershirt. Ponyboy was tucked up under one of those strong arms of his brother’s; the only pillow left being Soda’s chest, which he was more than happy to give up to cradle his brother’s head.

Between three coughing fits and a mild seizure that only lasted about ninety seconds, Pony lay quietly; thumbing over Sodapop’s dog tags that lay over that undershirt. They clanked together with the reality that Soda would be leaving us again, and soon. The bold stamped lettering represented another reality I was all too aware of, even with the efforts Greg had gone to in order to keep Soda out of combat. Soda wasn’t out of danger. He was still going to war.

"Uhhh…"

Soda looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I knew the worry he was feeling—I was feeling it too. What to say, and how to say it to Pony was crucial. As far as Pony was aware, Sodapop was home for good. We hadn’t talked. He was in a fragile state and I was well aware that losing Soda again could easily push him over the edge.

"Well, it’s so everyone knows who I am." Soda answered cautiously while never taking his eyes off me.

I nodded absently as I watched Pony and tried to anticipate what would happen next. For all of my efforts, I should’ve known better. Ponyboy may have suffered major trauma to his brain, but I should’ve never underestimated him.

"You mean when you’re dead."

Soda’s face paled as he swallowed hard, and my stomach decided to remind me of the breath I was holding, when it tightened up and forced me to take in air.

"Pony…" Soda choked, but Pony didn’t let him finish.

"Right? It’s for when you die and they find your body and they give you last rights and it’s all on there. Or if you get hurt or shot or blown up and they know what blood to give you."

"Pony…" Soda tried again, but what was there to say? Ponyboy was on the money and there was no use lying to protect him. He already knew.

"Nobody’s dying, Pony."

I slowly folded up the paper, and dropped it on the seat of the chair as I made my way to my brothers, slowly sitting down on the bed beside them. I reached out and ruffled my fingers through Pony’s hair.

"Nobody is dying, but you’re spot on, kiddo. That ID tag is to protect Soda. It’s so he can get help if he needs it."

He didn’t respond other than a quick nod. Soda and I looked at each other in silence while we let Pony digest the answer to his question.

I noticed Pony’s hand as it let go of Soda’s dog tags, and then let his finger swirl around the skin not covered by Soda’s undershirt. Soda’s face lit up with a smile as he squirmed; Pony obviously hitting a sensitive spot near Soda’s shoulder, but it all came screeching to a halt when Pony burst into tears.

"You’re goin’ back, aren’t you? You’re gonna leave again!"

I clenched my hand into a fist and brought it up to my mouth; biting down into it to keep from falling apart. Again, Pony had taught me not to underestimate him. I took deep breaths, mindful to let them out slowly or I knew I was going to break down along with Ponyboy. Neither one of my brothers needed that from me right then. We had to be strong. We had to get through this. I was going to get us through this.

"Shhhh…Ponyboy…"

Soda was Soda. One tear from his little brother, and he had Pony hauled up and half over him; his arms wrapped around Pony tight. My mind suddenly drifted off; thinking about a baby boy in Florida somewhere, not knowing what an incredible human being his daddy was. My heart ached for him along with the brother that would never be able to make it in a world without Sodapop Curtis.

"Don’t leave me Soda! Please…please! I’ll be good! I swear to God, I’ll be good!"

"Pony…shhhh…stop it! You _are_ good! You’re the best, honey! Stop! This is somethin’ I gotta do, and I’m gonna need you to be strong for me, okay?" Soda was hanging on by a thread, and my hands started their familiar tremble.

"Take me with you! I can look out for you. I can help you look out for Steve too!"

"Awe, baby…" Soda buried his face in Pony’s hair, tightened his arms around him, and cried harder.

"I’m gonna be sixteen…" Pony tried to hug his brother back, but that bum arm of his wouldn’t cooperate.

"I know, kiddo. You’re gettin’ so big." Soda nodded; mumbling against Pony’s head.

"I can protect you; make sure they don’t hurt you."

"Y’already did that, sweetheart. You almost died keeping that son of a bitch away from me. You almost died!" Soda stopped to take in a quivering breath. "You already saved me. It ain’t your turn now. You already saved me."

"But I can do it again! Please, Soda! You gotta let me!"

"Ponyboy…" Soda was near begging. "Baby, I can’t. Please…please stop!"

I fought to keep the tears back, but failed when Soda broke down, sobbing against our little brother who was braver than the two of us combined. I reached out and let the hand that I’d been gnawing on, rest on Pony’s back, just to touch him. I knew there wasn’t anything else I could do for or offer him.

"C’mon, Pony. You…you gotta stay here and take care of Darry for me." Soda managed to stutter.

"He comes too." Pony shoved his face into Soda’s neck. "We stay together. We fight together."

And just like that, my sixteen year old brother was a stubborn seven year old again. Treating the war like we were getting ready for another rumble against the rich kids from the west side of town. He was melting my heart while breaking it into pieces all at the same time.

"Shhhh…honey, please. You’re killing me. Please…"

Soda’s voice dropped off as he started to shake uncontrollably. I then fully understood why he’d decided not to say goodbye to Ponyboy the first time. It really _was_ killing him.

"Okay, you two. Let’s turn it down a notch." I tried to keep my voice smooth and calm while one hand rubbed Pony’s hair, and the other hand rubbed Soda’s.

"We’re here now; the three of us. Let’s be thankful for that. This is a gift we shouldn’t take for granted, so no tears, boys. No tears, okay?"

Soda nodded while rubbing at his eyes with one hand; clinging to Pony with the other.

"I still think we should all go." Pony mumbled into Soda. I could hear the pout even though I couldn’t see it. I felt a smile pull.

"Well shit, Pone. We bringin’ Tim and Two-Bit too? Greg?" Soda laughed as his hand rubbed through his own cropped hair briskly, making it stick up this way and that way.

Pony shrugged a shoulder before a muffled "okay" came from him.

"Alright, little buddy. It’s time to settle down, okay?" I was addressing both of my brothers, wanting desperately to steer the conversation away from where it was going, even though I knew we’d have to come back to it again. "I think the three of us should do somethin’ special while Soda’s home—just the three of us. Whatcha think?"

Before either one of them could answer, a soft knock rapped at the bedroom door, distracting us from the moment. I was relieved.

"Is it okay if I come in?"

"What are you still doing here? I thought you left?"

I looked over my shoulder and watched as Greg stepped into the room timidly, holding a large paper bag as well as his own.

"Me?" He smiled softly as he came in and set the bag down on the foot of the boy’s bed. "I did leave…to get a few things. Now I’m back."

"Greg, you’ve done enough already. Seriously. I don’t wanna get you into any trouble." I said, feeling Soda and Pony shuffle on the bed.

"Trouble? Why would you say that?"

"What’s in the bag, Greg?" I eyed him up suspiciously.

Greg sighed. "Fine; guilty as charged, your honour." He first pulled out a bottle of medicine. "His cough sounds bad; chest sounds worse. That right side of his is going to give you grief, Darry. I think there’s a lot of scarring there from…" Greg frowned, not being able to finish; not being able to verbalize what Pony had gone through.

"S’okay, Greg." Soda encouraged softly.

"Sounds better than it did a week ago." I commented absently as I rubbed my forehead. _’Sounds better than it did before I ran off and left him alone so I could get shitfaced.’_

"Make sure you give it to him until he’s finished it. Follow the label. An X-ray would tell me for sure, but I’m pretty convinced it’s pneumonia given his history."

"Is it bad?" Soda asked as Pony lay back down beside him, tucked under his arm.

"I think he’ll be okay with the antibiotics…and some nutrition." Greg proceeded to pull out another container of sorts. "He’s too thin, Darry. I don’t know what happened, but we gotta get some weight back on him. These are vitamins. It’ll help keep him healthy. I swiped some formula for him. It might help."

"I don’t want that tube again!" Pony shook his head; his eyes pleading. "I can eat."

"It’s not that simple, Ponyboy. You’re malnourished. If we start getting you to eat too much too soon, you’re going to be worse off." Greg looked at me. "I think if we start with the formula and give his body the nutrients it needs, he’ll manage it better."

"Darry, I don’t want the tube!" Pony’s voice shook. I knew that he was scared.

"Can he drink it? What’s that stuff taste like anyways?" Soda sat upright, bringing Pony along with him.

"Well, I’m not going to lie to you guys. It tastes like shit."

"I’ll drink it. I don’t care; I don’t want the tube."

"Pony," I gave him a look, warning him to settle down. "We do what we have to do to get you better."

"Darry," Soda piped up in defence of his little brother, and there we were again as though it were a couple of years ago. "Maybe he can try to drink it just to see, before we go shovin’ that tube back in him."

"We do whatever it takes, Sodapop."

"I agree, Darry. All I’m sayin’ is we should give him a chance first. It ain’t easy on him; you know that!"

"When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I’ll…"

"You’ll ask me?" A grin split Soda’s face and his eyes sparkled as he shot me a wink.

It really was like we’d gone back. Petty bickering over our little brother; looking out for his best interests even though our ideas of what _was_ in his best interest varied greatly. It always happened when Pony was in trouble. Sodapop and I would lock horns. I’d become the protective grizzly bear without regard to how Pony was feeling, and Soda would protect Pony too by listening to him and being the voice of reason.

"I love you, you little shit. Y’know that, right?" I winked back at Soda’s smug smile, and we both broke out laughing.

"More than your luggage?" Soda teased before shoving his face into Pony’s neck, playfully blowing a raspberry. Pony squirmed; trying not to laugh.

"What do you think, Greg?" I sighed, looking for a professional opinion.

"Might be harder on him when all is said and done, but if he wants to try it…" Greg shrugged.

"I can do it." Pony looked at me determined.

"Okay. Let’s give it a try."

* * *

"Greg, wait up!"

I rushed to the door before he could slip out without a word. He turned around slowly; his bag held over his shoulder. I owed this man so much that I couldn’t believe I’d let myself think so harshly of him. He’d gone out of his way since the first time he’d introduced himself to me in that small hospital room Pony’d spent months in. He’d known; he’d seen how much my brothers meant to me and did everything he could so that I still had them. Greg was still doing everything he could.

"I just…I just wanted to thank you…again. For everything." I felt so stupid and foolish for thinking Greg was anything but a friend after everything he’d done for my family.

"Darry…" I had a feeling that Greg was tired of hearing my gratitude, but I didn’t care. I held my hand out, wanting to shake his hand.

"Let me know how it goes with the feeding. I’ll swing by after my shift."

"What? Wait, you gotta work now?" I suddenly noticed the dark circles beneath Greg’s eyes, remembering how I’d woken him up from his sleep. "Cripes, Greg! What the hell?"

"It’s alright. I have a few days off after tonight. Don’t worry." Greg shot me a grin before reaching out to punch my shoulder playfully.

"Don’t worry? I feel like I’m pulling you away from your life. I’m sorry."

Greg shrugged. "You’re not pulling me away from much. It was nothing; stop apologizing."

"What about _your_ family? Your wife doesn’t mind you dropping everything to be everyone else’s hero?" I smirked, thinking about how many lives Greg must’ve saved in his career, but when I looked into his eyes my smile faded.

He was searching my face with a look that could only be described as sad while he shook his head.

"There’s nobody. No family—wife."

He looked away uncomfortably, and I realized that for all of the times our lives became entwined, I didn’t know much about the good doctor. I wondered if it was because I’d been so messed up with my own issues, or if it was because Greg was incredibly professional; trying not to push that boundary he was hinting about earlier when talking about Soda.

"Why? Why don’t I know you when you’ve been this huge part of my life for the last year?" I looked at Greg curiously.

Greg just smiled softly. "I better get going. I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

I nodded with a frown as he slipped through the front door and headed towards his car. I found myself more curious than ever about Greg, and wondered if Soda was privy to just who he was outside of his responsibilities as a physician. I made a note to myself to ask Soda later, when joking, chiding, and snickers emanating from the kitchen broke into my thoughts. I headed towards the noise.

"So, kid? What’s it taste like?" Two-Bit was supporting his weight with his arms; leaning on the table next to my brothers who were sitting side-by-side.

"He was right," the look on Pony’s face was grim. "Tastes like shit."

"Pony, language." I warned over the laughing that filled the room following Pony’s remark.

Soda threw his arm around Pony’s shoulders before planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. I figured that would be the end of the discussion, and prepared myself for the fact I’d have to place a feeding tube into Pony. I wasn’t happy about it, in fact my stomach was in knots with the flashbacks of every other time I’d had to do it. But Pony was stubborn. He’d told me he could handle whatever came his way, and to prove his point, he lifted the glass of murky tan liquid, and drank.

"I guess it don’t count if you puke it up, huh kid?" Tim looked entertained by my brother’s pig-headedness, but what he’d said rang true.

"Don’t chug it, Ponyboy. I don’t want you makin’ yourself sicker."

"It’s gross!" Pony took a deep breath after a few swallows; breaking into a coughing fit, and I was scared that he was going to throw up. I flashed a look at Soda, who started rubbing his brother’s back soothingly.

"Easy, kiddo. I’m so proud of you. Just take it easy."

Pony looked at his brother, and you could just feel the adoration between the two of them. Pony let his head lean on Soda’s shoulder while Soda’s arm squeezed him tighter, and Pony pushed his glass of tan sludge towards his brother.

"Taste it." Pony croaked, and Soda pulled back looking at his brother like he were insane.

"I ain’t drinkin’ that shit, Pony."

"C’mon, be a pal and taste it." Pony’s eyes sparkled as he dared Soda to taste the formula that he needed to stay healthy.

"If I puke, I’m gonna puke all over you—just so ya know." Soda warned as he grabbed for the glass and gave it a sniff.

"Don’t ever smell it, fool. Just knock it back." Tim rolled his eyes.

"Bottom’s up." Soda shrugged before bringing the glass up to his lips, and took a healthy swallow. He smacked his lips; twisting them and frowning once he’d put the glass back in front of Ponyboy.

"Well?" My eyebrows shot up, waiting for him to say something.

Sodapop shrugged again. "Yup. Pony’s right. Tastes like shit. Needs chocolate—hold on!"

"Soda," I rolled my eyes while Soda rifled through the cupboard to grab the chocolate syrup and then a spoon.

We watched on as Soda grabbed the glass back, and proceeded to add chocolate syrup to it; pausing here and there to take a taste with the spoon before pushing it in front of his brother when he was satisfied.

"Smells weird." Pony frowned as he looked at his brother.

"Don’t smell it, Pony. Drink it. See if it’s better." Soda urged.

Pony shot a look letting everyone know he wasn’t sold on Sodapop’s idea, but he brought the glass up to his mouth and took a drink. In fact, he drank it all.

Pony nodded once he was finished. "Better."

"Of course it’s better. Everything’s better with chocolate!" Soda beamed, and I felt a tug on my heart.

Life had been so empty without Soda. He just had a way; his playful and caring nature attracted everyone to him, like moths to flame. I would’ve never thought to do something as silly, but simple and meaningful as to add chocolate syrup to Pony’s formula. I wanted the quick and easy solution. But Soda always took the extra time—for everyone.

* * *

"Darry, you ain’t sleepin’ in that stupid chair. Get your ass in here." Soda mumbled into Pony’s shoulder as he was spooning him from behind.

"Go to sleep, little buddy." I smiled.

"Darry…"

"I’m fine. Besides, there’s even less room now with your stupid growth spurt." I teased my brother about his new body.

"We can sleep in your room, Darry. Let’s go."

"Nah," I shook my head when Soda’s face popped up from his brother’s shoulder. "Don’t wake him up, he’s had a rough time." I looked on at Ponyboy lovingly. "I’ll head to my own room in a bit, after you two settle."

Soda shoved his face back in his brother, and I listened to his deep even breaths. I was about to ease out of the chair, when Soda’s voice interfered with those plans.

"I really missed you. I’m _gonna_ really miss you."

"I know, little buddy. I know, but I don’t wanna talk about that right now. I just wanna take a couple of days and not think about you leaving again."

"Okay, Darry. Okay."


	40. Forty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

"Shhhh…don’t wake Darry."

"M’kay. Sorry, Soda."

"Shush, ya got no reason to be. Can you walk, or do you need me to carry ya?"

"I think I can do it. Can you hold my hand though?"

"Yeah, I can do that, kiddo. How’s that leg of yours doin’, Pony?"

"S’okay. If I don’t think about it, it don’t hurt too bad. Hand, Soda! Hold my hand."

"Ain’t lettin’ go, honey. Let’s go get breakfast started."

"’Kay."

I could hear my brothers whispering to each other; conspiring like they used to always do. Trying not to wake me while they snuck off together and pretended they were in charge; that they were taking care of things. I felt the muscles in my face pull. They _were_ taking care of things. For the first time in months _I_ felt safe and secure. There was no worrying when my two brothers were with me under the same roof, so I kept my eyes closed, and decided to take advantage of the moment by sleeping in.

I didn’t know how much longer I’d slept for, but the familiar sound of boys bantering back and forth was almost enough to make me forget everything we’d gone through. But there was suddenly that nagging pull in the pit of my stomach. One day had passed which meant only four more to go before Sodapop would be leaving us again.

_Don’t do this. Don’t ruin it by dwelling on that. Just enjoy this. It’ll be tough, but we’ll get through it. He’ll put his time in and him and Steve will be back before you know it._

I arched my neck, pushing the back of my head into my pillow further as I sighed. I could feel that helpless ache take over, and my hands started to tremble. I thought my urge and my need for a drink would fade now that Soda was home, albeit temporary, but that was the problem. It was only temporary.

I took a deep breath and covered my face with my hands; the tremble easing slightly when I gave them something to do. I focused on the sound of my breathing as I struggled to push away the angst of eventually having to watch my brother leave again, and tried to think of brighter things, like how happy Pony was right now.

_That’ll come to a dead end soon enough. How the fuck is he going to handle losing Soda twice? Christ, what am I gonna do?_

"Stop it." I muttered to myself as my bedroom door opened.

I sat up slowly as Soda slipped through, shutting the door behind him with a smile.

"Who ya talkin’ to, Darry?"

"No one," I sighed as I flopped back down. "Myself, I guess."

"Somethin’ I should worry about?" Soda chuckled as he crawled up from the foot of the bed to sit next to me; still in an undershirt and his boxers. I just looked at him with a frown.

"You need more rest, Darry? You look tired." Soda worried.

I reached out tentatively, pushing back a strand of hair behind his ear that wasn’t really there. "You’ve never looked better."

It was the truth. Soda was always healthy and happy, but there was now an air of confidence that was different from before. It wasn’t just the physical changes; Sodapop was only eighteen, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. My brother was still young, but he was now a man.

His eyes looked at me bashfully when he bit his bottom lip before his whole face lit up in a smile. I chuckled at his reaction, not used to him being shy about his appearance. He’d always been that way—humble. Always attracting attention no matter where he went, but not once did Soda ever let it get to his head.

"I wanna make you proud, Darry." Soda’s voice broke off mid-sentence and I wasn’t sure I’d heard him.

"Wha?"

"I want you to be proud…" he spoke louder. "…proud of me."

"Soda," I began, but he cut me off before I could finish.

"Don’t say you’re already proud, ‘cuz you know that’s a load of bull. What’s to be proud of? I’m a high school dropout, got my girlfriend knocked up, and abandoned my family to fight in a stupid war that don’t make no sense."

"Sodapop," I tried again, but again he interrupted.

"But I’m gonna do my best, Darry. I’m gonna send money and help out more than I could have before, and I’m gonna send money to Sandy for her and Jack. I’m gonna get my shit together, Darry and I’m gonna make you proud. I swear to you."

I kept quiet while I stared at my brother for a while. He seemed so sure that I thought he’d screwed up his life, or maybe that was his fear? Suddenly I didn’t feel so confused about why he’d chosen Greg to confide in. He was scared of letting me down.

"Can I talk now?" I asked softly. Soda looked away before nodding.

I eased my way up so that I was sitting, the blankets still covering my legs until I shuffled so that my body faced Soda’s squarely. There was a lot that I needed him to know before he left us; so much more than four measly days would allow.

"Soda…" I really wasn’t sure how to say what I wanted to say, and I was scared that whatever it was, I’d end up screwing it up and turn it into a lecture.

"I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m gonna say it anyway because there’s no way I’m letting you leave here in a few days thinking I’m anything but proud of you."

"Darry," Soda started, but I held up my hand.

"No, you had your say, now it’s my turn. We make mistakes, Soda. Did you screw up when you dropped out? Maybe to some people. But what they don’t know is that I was drowning and I needed help keeping this family together. What they don’t know is that I had no clue what I was doin’. Nobody knew what was gonna happen. Nobody could predict mom and dad would die when they did; the way they did. I needed you, and you stepped up—you step up time and time again.

"You’re not me, Soda. You like to fly by the seat of your pants, and y’know what? That’s okay. It is, ‘cuz you ain’t me and I ain’t you. That don’t make us less than the other; we’re human. And I’ve made mistakes—Christ, I’ve made bad ones, Soda. Ones we’re still paying for…" I felt my throat close as I choked on my words.

"Darry, don’t. I’m serious. You gotta stop blaming yourself for Pony. It’s like ya said, nobody knew and nobody could predict what was gonna happen." Soda grabbed for my hand.

I nodded. "We make mistakes. If we’re smart, we learn from them. You’ve done that, Pepsi. You’ve taken every bad moment and turned it around. Ponyboy—you might not wanna hear this, but there’s no way he woulda come this far had it not been for you. You never gave up on him, even when I was ready to."

"That ain’t true, Darry. Don’t say that!" Soda looked horrified.

"It ain’t true? You don’t remember that first talk with Greg? I didn’t want him to suffer anymore; I was ready to let go, but you…you begged me to give him a chance, so I did. You never give up on anyone. Like you goin’ to Vietnam for Steve. He’s our brother—he is, and you’re doing all you can to make sure he’s not all by his lonesome over there. Look at you! You’ve worked your ass off. You always push through and work hard. You worked hard and got your diploma. You’re still workin’ hard; all this talk about sending money. Soda, I ain’t dad so maybe it ain’t my place, but I’ve always been proud of you. Always. That’ll never change."

I felt guilty when I noticed a tear slide down Soda’s cheek. I didn’t want to make my brother cry, I just wanted him to know that I thought the world of him. I reached out to brush his tear away, and he huffed in embarrassment and turned his face from me.

"Why ya gotta go ‘n say shit like that for? You’re just makin’ it harder to leave." Soda sniffed as a few more tears fell. He wiped at them hurriedly.

"I know, but it’s important. I’m sorry." I smiled sadly, feeling my stomach pull uncomfortably. "We can talk about it later—the three of us."

It was a conversation that needed to include the most important piece of the puzzle, and that was Ponyboy. Because I knew that for as hard as Soda’s absence was on me, it was that much harder on Pony who was still trying to rise above what was done to him.

"Saved some breakfast for you, and the coffee’s on. Greg really wants to take a look at Pony, but Pony’s askin’ for you."

"Me?" I thought Soda was confused.

"Yes you." Soda looked at me pointedly. "He’s shy, Darry. Always has been, but especially now since…everything. He’s scared."

"I thought he liked Greg?" Now I felt confused. After everything, I didn’t understand why Pony would be scared of Greg. He was his doctor and our friend.

"He _does_ like Greg. He just don’t like bein’ touched, is all. Not unless it’s me or you. It scares him."

I sighed in frustration. _Leave_ _it_ _to_ _Soda_ _to_ _figure this all out on his own while I need directions with a goddamned flashlight and a road map._

"Anyways, he’s here." Sodapop patted my leg while he crawled over me to get up from the bed, then headed for the door.

"Hey, Soda?"

"Hmmm?" He turned before he opened the door.

"What’s up with Greg?"

"Awe c’mon, Darry. Don’t start that shit again. He’s a good guy…"

"No, no, no, no!" I waved my hands, feeling bad that my question came off like I was on Greg’s case again. "That’s not how I meant that. I just meant that you’ve spent a lot of time with him. I know nothing except he’s a doctor. I just…"

"He’s kinda quiet—private, I mean." Soda looked thoughtful while he let go of the doorknob, and leaned against the wall. "I know he ain’t married or anything. He lives alone. The nurses all got the hots for him though." Sodapop snorted, and I huffed a laugh.

I could imagine it. Greg wasn’t shy about letting his caring nature show through. Even now with all the time that had passed, he still went out of his way for my family. He made us feel important. It showed with everything he did. I also wasn’t blind. Greg, much like Sodapop, was unquestionably handsome with eyes and hair that made me wonder if he originally hailed from California; rumoured to produce the kind of blond hair and light eyes that he himself owned. He was about my height with a similar build, and there was no question that he must’ve caused a stir wherever he went.

"Hmmm…" I wondered more about our doctor friend; wanted to know more about him.

"He’s only thirty-two, Darry. I mean, he’s a doctor and everything. He’s like the smartest guy I know besides you and Ponyboy."

"Yeah," I agreed vacantly, not really noticing the compliment given to me.

"Anyways, I’m gonna get dressed, I guess." Soda opened the door, sliding through while still looking at me. "Hurry up before Two-Bit eats all the bacon!"

"Shit!" I jumped out of the bed, more for comedic effect than being worried about Two-Bit’s gluttony. It worked; Soda broke out in a fit of laughter.

After getting dressed and washing up, my hands are more steady and I’m feeling like I can handle the day without falling apart. I enter the kitchen without a word, and notice everyone at the table watching what looks to be Greg and Ponyboy in a game of gin rummy. I say nothing, but stifle a chuckle knowing that my youngest brother has most likely charmed Greg into his lair, right before he’s about to slaughter him.

I quietly make my bacon and tomato sandwich before pouring myself a cup of coffee and make eye contact with Sodapop, who’s now dressed in his own clothes and sitting half-behind his brother; head resting on his shoulder watching Pony’s hand. I cock my eyebrow in question, and Soda answers with a wink.

"How ‘bout a seven?"

Pony’s crooked left hand knocks against his cards, signaling for Sodapop to reach in and put down the seven of spades. They both look on at Greg as he stares at it.

"Nooo, I think I’ll gamble for a bit."

Greg draws from the pile, and takes a breath as he’s debating his next move. He rearranges a few of the cards in his hand before discarding the King of diamonds. Soda snorts, shaking his head before burying his face in Pony’s shoulder.

"Gin!"

Pony grins as he drags the King away and lays down his run starting with the ten of diamonds, three aces, and triple deuces. I smile.

"What the hell just happened? That was only three turns!" Greg was completely flabbergasted while the rest of us laughed knowingly.

"What happened, was that you got your ass handed to ya by a kid, Doc. Don’t teach you this shit in college I guess, huh?" Tim drawled as he got up from his chair to make room for me.

"Was almost a pat hand," Pony commented coyly before squirming away as Soda ruffled up his hair in pride.

"Wellup!" Two-Bit got up from the table. "I don’t have the heart to keep watchin’ this train wreck. Good luck to ya, Doc. I’m off. See ya ‘round supper time."

"Take it easy, Two-Bit."

"I used to be good at this." Greg said to no one as he rubbed his forehead in confusion. Soda gathered up the cards and started shuffling for Pony.

They played to one hundred points before Greg had conceded. By that time I’d finished my sandwich and my coffee, and felt a little guilty for my brother’s clean win. Poor Greg didn’t stand a chance. He had no idea how many hours my mother had spent teaching and downright grooming Ponyboy for this card game. I felt a tug of joy that Pony still managed to maintain this part of himself and of our mom.

"Can’t believe it!" Greg was still musing while Soda was packing the cards up.

"Don’t feel bad, Greg. He’s young, but he’s had a lot of practice!" Soda spoke proudly while ruffling Pony’s hair again. He stood up from his chair, leaned over to kiss his brother’s head, then walked to the ice box.

Greg shook his head still in disbelief while he got up from the table and made his way into the living room. Soda busied himself concocting another chocolate drink for Pony when I looked over to Tim.

"What’ve you got planned for the day?" I asked, just to ease the silence.

"Depends on you. How are you doin’? Saw your hands shaking a bit earlier." Tim mumbled, and had both of my brothers looking at me worriedly.

"Darry?" Pony squeaked, and I couldn’t help but reach out across the table to grab at his hand.

"It’s okay," I whispered to my brothers. "I’m okay." I repeated louder for Tim’s benefit.

"Guess I’ll be hanging around then." Tim eyed me knowingly while he lit a cigarette and made his way for the front door.

"Seriously though, you okay, Darry?" Soda walked back to Pony, and handed him his formula. His eyes stayed trained on me.

"I’m better than when I first woke up. Comes and goes…" My voice cut off as Greg returned with his bag.

"Okay, card shark. I’m going to have a look at you before I move on for the day." Greg smiled as he moved a chair in front of Pony at the table.

I felt relieved as both Pony and Soda became distracted by Greg. Even with all my talk about learning from your mistakes with Sodapop, I still felt both embarrassed and ashamed that I’d let myself slip so out of control with the drink. For all of Soda’s worrying about letting me down, I’d had that same fear too.

"Darry!" Pony’s voice broke through my thoughts.

"I’m right here, Pony." I squeezed the hand I was still holding.

"Closer, Darry!" Pony choked, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

"Pony, it’s Greg," I started, but Soda gave me a warning glare with a hard backhand to my shoulder when I got up to switch my chair to the one Soda had left next to our brother’s. I moved Pony in his chair so that he was facing Greg.

"Guys, Pony calls the shots. Always. No questions." Greg’s voice was firm as he nodded to Pony, placing his stethoscope in his ears.

Sodapop gave me a look that said _I told you so_ , letting me know my reaction was uncalled for and that I deserved Greg’s reprimand. Of course he had to stick out his tongue at me on top of it. I rolled my eyes.

Pony jumped about a foot as Greg dipped his hand down the front of his shirt to listen to his chest.

"Easy, little buddy." I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and let my thumb rub against the curl of hair at the nape.

"Okay, Ponyboy?" Greg quickly removed his hand, and eyed my brother carefully.

"Cold," was all Pony said as a shiver seemed to take hold; moving slowly up his spine.

"Shoot!" Greg’s face was riddled with remorse. "I’m sorry, Pony. I should’ve warmed it up some, or at least warned you."

"You’re just mad ‘cuz I beat you at gin." Pony grinned. "Payback sucks."

Greg laughed wholeheartedly as he continued his quick examination of my brother. Again, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how close Soda and I had come to losing our brother, and here he was now, busting chops with the man responsible for him pulling through.

"How did we do with the supplement? I noticed you’re not wearing a tube. Must’ve went okay?"

"He’s stubborn." I commented dryly, earning me a smile from both Pony and Greg.

"Why does it look like that?" Greg eyed the glass that Soda had put in front of Ponyboy; his eyebrows furrowed.

"Chocolate!" Pony shrugged before grabbing for the glass, and taking a drink.

Greg looked at me for an explanation, but I just shook my head and then nodded at Sodapop.

"Ask him."

"Soda, I swear to God," Greg chuckled while his hands quickly worked from Pony’s neck, down to his legs in fluid movements.

"Oh, c’mon. Everybody knows all things taste better with chocolate. Don’tcha think, Doc?" Soda flashed his charming smile.

"I need you on my team, Soda. We need to have a serious talk when all of this is over. You’d be an amazing doctor. Promise me we’ll talk."

"Yeah, right!" Soda laughed; not seeing in himself what the rest of us could see.

"I’m not joking, Soda. You’d be incredible." Greg patted Ponyboy on the knee to let him know he was finished checking him over.

"You think some college is gonna let me in with my crappy grades?"

"That’s not true, Pepsi," I piped up, suddenly getting caught up in Greg’s confidence in my brother. "You showed me your transcript. With a little work…"

"Great, now you got _him_ goin’. Thanks a lot, Greg." Soda frowned.

"Don’t be like that, Soda." I frowned back at him while Greg quietly got up from his chair, and packed his stethoscope in his bag.

"Darry, stop! Just…"

The whole subject had Soda distraught, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he really didn’t think he could do it, or because there was too much ahead of him that he didn’t want to think about it. Regardless of the reason, I wasn’t going to let my dreams for Soda jeopardize the little time we had left by having him upset with me.

"Well, I better get going. I’ll check up on Pony in a couple of days. Soda, I’ll see you before you go I hope?" Greg’s voice was quiet, as though he blamed himself for Soda and me almost getting into it.

"Why not swing by for supper tomorrow if you ain’t workin’? We could barbecue or somethin’. Whattaya think, Soda?" I tried to break the awkwardness between us.

"Yeah, sounds good." Soda replied absently as he sat in Greg’s previous seat, and started fussing over Pony.

"If you’re sure it’s no trouble?" Greg looked hesitant.

"If you don’t mind putting up with us." I half-grinned, standing up from the table to make my way to Greg.

He held out his hand for me to shake, but it suddenly seemed like such a formal and cold gesture. I took his hand, pulling him in for a quick hug. At first I could tell I’d taken him off guard; his body was ramrod straight and tense, but as I brought a hand up to pat his back, he relaxed into me and one of his arms wrap around my shoulders.

"Thank you, Darry."

I wondered what he was thinking at that moment; he seemed almost sad. He forced a small smile before lifting a hand in a silent wave before letting himself out. I felt even more curious about the good doctor, and sighed to myself while I made my way back to sit by my brothers.

I watched quietly as Soda seemed to unknowingly let his hands travel the same path that Greg’s had taken along our little brother; feeling around his neck and throat before drifting lower until he was massaging Pony’s contracted arm.

"I think you’d be a great doctor if that’s what you want, Soda." Pony spoke adoringly to his brother; the sun rising and setting on his mere presence.

"Don’t go startin’ that shit. We can’t afford for both me _and_ you goin’ off to school. _You’re_ gonna go and do great things, Pony. It’s what we all planned for." Soda’s hands cupped his brother’s face softly; occasionally moving to smooth his hair back.

"I ain’t goin’, Soda. You know that."

"What? Don’t talk like that, honey. You are so! Me and Darry are gonna see to it! You’re gonna go on and do great things with your life. That’s how it’s s’poseta be."

My hands trembled. I’d known it was the truth but I didn’t want to face it, just like Soda was denying it now. It was the dream I’d been forced to let go of when Pony couldn’t handle going to school anymore. I swallowed but kept quiet, even when Soda flashed me a look wanting me to get Ponyboy to stop talking. My heart thudded uncomfortably; mourning once again the loss of what once was and what could’ve been.

"I ain’t that person no more, Soda. I don’t know who I am now."

"Pony…don’t talk like this. I don’t wanna hear you givin’ up like that." Soda started to cry.

"It’s not mine to give up anymore, Soda." Pony shrugged sadly, and I had to close my eyes to push back the grief that was building inside of my gut. "I’m not the same. I don’t even know who I am anymore most times."

"You’re my brother, Pony. And I’m gonna take care of you. I promise; I’m gonna come back when the army’s done with me. You ‘n me, Pony." Soda pulled Pony fiercely into him and rested his chin on Pony’s head.

"Darry too, Soda!" Pony’s voice was mashed into Soda’s chest where his face was.

Soda’s eyes met mine. "Of course, Darry. I’d never forget Darry. Us three against the world, right?"

I tried to grin, but my hands were shaking and I found myself eyeing the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink, even though I knew damned well the bottles had been poured out by Shepard and Two-Bit. My predicament didn’t go unnoticed however. I felt Soda’s hand as it reached out to one of mine; rubbing calming circles around my knuckles. The warmth and innocence of my younger brothers seemed to envelop me, and all I could do was lean in closer, letting my forehead press against the back of Pony’s shoulder to feel more of it.

"Us three against the world."


	41. Forty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

_Three left._

My eyes sprang open as my heart punched against my ribs, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. I lay staring at the ceiling, counting each rise and fall of my chest; ignoring the tremble in my hands as they covered my face and blocked out the early morning light from the window.

I turned my head right to find on the clock that it was only seven a.m. I turned my head left and found a half-empty bed and remembered that my brothers had decided to sleep in their own room; trying to keep my stress level down by giving me quiet and space to get the sleep they thought I needed. Little did they know that their absence made it nearly impossible to settle, and I tossed and turned most of the night. I was no longer used to sleeping alone.

_Three days left._

I closed my eyes and tried to shut my mind off, but all I could do was fixate on the fact there were only a few days left with Sodapop before he had to leave for the war. I didn’t want to be _that_ person. I didn’t want to be the one to put a damper on the light Soda’s presence had shone over our home since he’d returned. I wanted to bask in it, and take any refuge it produced, but no matter how happy it made me, I was still aware it wasn’t going to last forever. The good times never lasted for any of us. That was our lot in life.

I tried instead, to think about the day previous, and Greg’s determination when it came to guiding Soda towards a fulfilling future. It felt right to me somehow, and I no longer felt jealous or threatened by it. Greg was the right mentor for Sodapop’s happy-go-lucky nature. He had Soda’s utmost respect and admiration for all he’d done to save Ponyboy’s life. He was able to get Soda back on track to earn a diploma, now maybe the possibility of college.

I’d been such an ass, but I couldn’t see it at the time. I’d pushed Ponyboy hard; maybe too hard. I’d expected perfection from him with school before he’d been taken by the state, because I wanted him to have choices in his life. I didn’t want where we came from to be the reason he couldn’t succeed in life. I could see now, how that would keep Soda from wanting my help. Soda, just like that ornery horse he’d once loved, would only buck against me if I held the reigns. I was too much for him, and he for me sometimes, but Greg was the perfect person with the right influence and who’d had the right approach with my brother. Soda would have a future. All he had to do was survive the next eighteen to twenty-four months.

 _Three days left. Seventy-two hours is all we got left_.

I squeezed my eyes closed against the haunting voices in my head; reminding me constantly of what I was dreading. Saying goodbye to my brother again while trying not to fall apart. Having to let go and not be able to go with him; not be by his side to protect him or take that bullet for him if need be. Having to stay behind; trying to keep Ponyboy functioning without either one of us succumbing to the worry that will surely be there until the moment Soda returned. I didn’t want to let go—let _him_ go. It’d gone by too fast, and he was all grown up now.

_Seventy-two hours. Three fucking days. It’s not enough time. There’ll never be enough time._

I heard the screen door slam and then the sound of a car door before I scrambled out of my bed and onto my feet. I didn’t waste time looking out the window. I had my jeans thrown on half hazard as I rushed to the door; part of me still reeling from the sound where months ago my brother had left me standing in a stupor watching him leave.

My heart and my hands shook as I stared at the taxi that was parked in front. I wanted to scream, but realized then at that moment that I had no fight left in me. I could beg, or I could pray, but there was no more fight inside of me. If there was such a thing as a soul, then mine had been spent.

I watched as Soda stood there; a duffle bag at his feet, and I felt like I couldn’t move to stop him. _God, please don’t do this again, Pepsi-cola. I can’t do this again._ And then I looked back at the duffle bag and saw that it wasn’t his. I looked closer at the frilly bag in baby blue, and then at my brother’s stocking feet. The door creaked open as I slumped into it; my heart slowing in relief, but pounding with anticipation as I curiously followed the walk with my own feet until my brother heard me. My breath caught in my throat when he turned around with that brilliant smile of his, holding that gorgeous baby close to his chest.

"Hey, Jack! There’s somebody very important that you gotta meet still! This is your uncle Darry! Say hi, Jack! _Hi_!"

My brother looked utterly ridiculous, but no less adorable as he held Jack’s arm and waved it gently at me. A laugh bubbled up from deep within me, and I shook my head, barely believing in what I was seeing. I reached out without thinking, and let my fingers glide through the mass of soft golden curls. All logical thought seemed to disappear along with every shit thing that’d happened to this family in the past, as I watched Soda kiss his son’s cheek and then look at me.

"Wanna hold your nephew, Darry?"

I couldn’t speak. My throat felt thick, my eyes were stinging, and my hands were shaking uncontrollably until Soda shifted his hold on Jack, and placed him into my arms with no hesitation. The first thing I noticed was that Jack looked exactly like Sodapop except for the eyes. His eyes were a greenish-grey color, so much like…

"He looks like Pony, don’tcha think?" Soda read my mind and smiled, as he leaned in to kiss Jack again.

"He looks like his daddy." My voice cracked as I hugged Jack to me.

"Gimme one sec, okay?" Soda smiled and held a hand up as he ran to the taxi.

Jack squealed as I felt his chubby hand pat my cheek, and I looked at him; my face aching from the huge smile he was responsible for. He cooed and had me smiling even harder when I heard the door to the taxi close, and noticed Sodapop waving to Sandy as the cab drove away.

"Where’s she going? How come you didn’t invite her to stay? It’s okay y’know, I don’t mind."

"Thanks, Darry but it’s okay. She’s visiting her folks. They don’t wanna see the baby." Soda looked so hurt, and I couldn’t blame him. "Ain’t he beautiful, Darry? Ain’t he somethin’?"

I nodded and shifted Jack into one arm while I wiggled my fingers for him to grab. Soda held his arms out for me to return Jack to him, but I just gave him a look before slowly turning away from him to make my way back to the house. I could hear Soda laughing at me from behind.

"Hey, little man. Nice to finally meetcha!" I bobbed my finger up and down while Jack held onto it; smiling at me like I wasn’t a complete and total stranger, and trusting me like his daddy’d already told him I’d do everything in my power to keep him safe. Knowing my brother, that’s probably exactly what he’d done.

"Wanna wake Pony up?" I asked as Soda peered over my shoulder to make silly faces and coo back at his son. _What the fuck was happening to us?_

"Nah, not yet. It was a rough night." Soda’s face sobered as he reached out to run his fingers through Jack’s curls.

"What happened? Why didn’t you come get me?" I looked at Soda, a little angry at him for not needing my help.

"Nightmare. Turned into a seizure; big one where everything just kinda…" Soda grimaced as he motioned outwards with his hands. "Need the bedding washed."

"Shit! Yeah, okay. Was it very long?"

"Not more than five minutes. It’s okay, Darry. I remember the rules." Soda huffed at me.

"I know." I huffed back. "You shoulda come ‘n got me."

"You need to take it easy, Darry. I don’t want you anymore stressed out than usual."

I laughed spitefully. "It’s a little too late for that, little buddy. Unless your plan is to run away to Mexico or Canada. Whadaya think, Jack?" My voice squeaked, as I tried to make my voice an octave higher. "Should we hide your daddy out on the beach or in an igloo?"

Soda just looked at me with a grim expression. "Not funny."

"Wasn’t tryin’ to be." I grumbled back, but decided to leave it at that. I wasn’t wasting what little time we had left, arguing with my brother. "So we let him sleep in?"

"Thought I could surprise him with Jack later. He’s gonna lose his mind!" Soda’s face beamed as he looked on at his son, and then up at me.

"Hmmmm…"

I smiled, suddenly curious about Pony’s reaction to this fifteen pound human, and the fact that he had Soda’s heart wrapped around his tiny little finger. I wondered if Pony would be jealous. Jack was now competition for Soda’s affection. In the past, Pony hadn’t exactly gotten along with those—namely Steve, that stole any time he’d have with Soda. Ponyboy was always number one, and that was about to change in a big hurry.

"It don’t change nothin’. I can take care of ‘em both." Soda gave me a look.

I rolled my eyes. "Get the fuck outta my head!"

"You gonna curse like that in front of the baby? Shame on you, Darry!" Soda scolded, barely able to contain his grin. "You know I’d die for you and Ponyboy. And now Jack too. That don’t change. It’s like my heart’s bigger now, ya dig? I got all this love I didn’t know was there before. One doesn’t cancel the other out, it just gets bigger."

" _You’re_ somethin’ else, Pepsi-cola. Y’know that?" I didn’t really know how to tell him. He could take my breath away sometimes with just how innately good he was.

"Whatever," Soda blushed while waving me off, and then held his hands out for his son expectantly.

"What?" I just looked at him again, not ready to be separated from this extension of my brother.

"You makin’ breakfast? Gimme the baby, Darry so he’s not in the way."

" _In the way?_ " My voice cracked and squeaked as I tried to brush up on my baby talk. "You hear what your daddy just said, Jack? C’mon, let’s go make some breakfast. I’ll show ya how to get the coffee goin’." I turned away from Soda and left him standing at the door laughing and empty handed.

"Y’know, Sandy’s gonna want him back!" He called after me, but I pretended not to hear as I rummaged through the kitchen with my nephew.

I begrudgingly let Soda have his son back when it seemed that Jack too, was ready for breakfast. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but getting food on the table was slightly easier with the use of both hands. The thing was, was that this overwhelming sense of ease and something along the lines of happiness surfaced when I was near that baby. _Who’da thunk it?_

I had the bacon warming in the oven when I started on the eggs and looked over at my brother in wonder as he was feeding Jack his bottle. It seemed to hit me then. _My little brother’s a daddy._ My throat started to close, and I thought my eyes were stinging again when Two-Bit rolled into the kitchen looking like a train wreck.

"Y’alright there, buddy?" I snickered.

Two-Bit shrugged tiredly until he caught site of Soda holding Jack. His face lit up as I can assume my own had when I first caught site of the baby, and he leaned over Soda’s shoulder to get closer.

"Hey there, baby Curtis! What’s up with the big times? Shit, Soda. He’s gettin’ big. What the fuck is Sandy puttin’ in his bottles?"

"Language!" I scolded, but it just made my brother and Two-Bit laugh.

"How old is he now?" Two-Bit asked, taking a seat next to Soda and the baby, acting as ridiculous as Soda and I had been.

"Seven months!" Soda beamed as Jack spit out the bottle to squeal a few garbled coos to his dad.

"Hell, he’s gonna be as big as Darry!" Two-Bit laughed.

"That’s okay, ain’t it Jack? You gonna be big and strong like uncle Darry?" Soda set the bottle down and propped Jack up to sit and talk to him.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched my brother. If it had been another time, I would’ve thought Soda was just caught up in the novelty of it all; a cute baby to play with and coddle. But as I watched him, I noticed things like instinct and a true and deep connection with Jack. It seemed as though fatherhood came naturally to Soda. It was almost as though he were born for it.

"What about you, Superman? You and Supernurse gonna sprout out a few of these hooligans?" Two-Bit teased.

"Nah, I’m good. Already got two, and they came out toilet trained." I grinned and gave Soda a wink.

Soda just laughed before turning back to his son and fed him the rest of his bottle. When his eggs were cooked, and the toast was done, I put the grape jelly out on the table for Sodapop so he could get some food into him. I held my arms out greedily.

"Hand him over! You eat!" I smiled as Soda rolled his eyes, but lifted Jack up so that I could grab him.

"Tell Beth to make you one of your own. He needs a change by the way—thanks!" Soda stuck his tongue out at me.

"Like I haven’t changed a diaper before. Christ, Soda." I rolled my eyes.

"Language, Darry!" Soda grinned.

"Where are the diapers, smartass?"

"In the bag by the door. Good luck." Soda smirked, but I just shook my head at him.

"C’mon, little man. We’ll leave these two apes to their breakfast." I bounced Jack in my arms while I turned and headed for the living room.

Jack babbled and squealed how great he thought my idea was as we stepped into the room, and I noticed the couch was already empty and the blankets were neatly folded. I started making popping noises in between filling my cheeks with air while trying to entertain the newest member of the Curtis family. Jack wiggled and giggled—apparently I was a hit.

I grabbed the baby bag at the door and backtracked my way to the couch where I kneeled down on the floor. I gently laid Jack down on the cushion and took a good look at him. It was a good thing I knew my way around a pair of overalls, because there were more buttons on the crotch of his get-up than I figured it needed. It was just easier to pull the damned things down and off, as opposed to finding which buttons went together.

"Where’s Tim at?" I hollered behind me towards the kitchen. Tim hadn’t left my sight for more than five minutes since the night he returned me home.

"Why? Need help changing that diaper already?" Soda piped up and had Two-Bit laughing like a hyena.

"I suppose I deserved that?" I frowned playfully at Jack, and had him clean, dry, and back in his overalls before my brother could say anything else asinine.

I picked up the baby and the dirty diaper he’d been sitting in and made my way back into the kitchen. Soda’s face was full as he was chewing what was left of his food, his plate mostly empty save for a slice of toast. I tossed the full diaper onto it.

"Jesus Christ, Darry!" Soda yelled.

"Language!" Two-Bit teased in an over-the-top rendition of an old church lady.

"Any other smart quips from the peanut gallery?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"Nah, I’m done for the day." Soda grinned. "Tim said there was a problem at home; had to check in with the gang. Then he swore!"

"Not in front of little Jackie boy, I hope!" Two-Bit feigned horror before the two of them cracked up.

"Oh, for cryin’ out loud! Y’all are nuts!" I turned away to head towards Soda and Pony’s bedroom; the snickers from the kitchen table following me. "Alright, Jack there’s no intelligent life in there. Let’s go wake your uncle Pony."

The room was dimmer than I expected. Sodapop must’ve drawn the curtains closed so that Pony wouldn’t wake from daybreak. The overwhelming joy that had taken over me seemed to fade as I neared the bed; my arms still full of my beautiful nephew.

Pony looked haggard with dark circles around his eyes in a face that was ghostly white. Soda hadn’t been exaggerating; he must’ve had a rough night, and Pony looked like hell. I knew the kind of nightmares he still suffered. Nightmares that had the capacity to creep in and wreak havoc with his entire body. I thought about what Soda had said about his heart getting bigger with the arrival of his son, and figured mine must’ve been just as big for the amount of times it broke for Pony, and yet still continued to beat.

He was half-lying on his left side. His breathing was light and regular with that whirl he’d always had when his lungs filled. I carefully laid Jack down into the small crook of his broken arm while I sat down on Pony’s right side and waited. Jack seemed to settle in right away, as though he knew what was going on.

"He wake up yet?" Soda whispered as he peered through the doorway. I shook my head.

Soda quietly shut the door behind him as he made his way for the bed, and slid in beside Jack; his hand finding its way into Pony’s hair so he could run his fingers through the strands. Jack let out a happy squeal when he saw his dad, and it made me jump before settling into a chuckle. Soda leaned in to give him a kiss when Pony stirred.

"Hey, little buddy." I spoke quietly as I gently shook Pony’s shoulder. "Why don’t you wake up?"

Pony opened his eyes, but they weren’t focused on anything. His face was blank—expressionless, and it always felt like a kick in the gut to see him so…not present.

"Hey, kiddo! I brought you a surprise." Sodapop smiled before leaning in a little more to kiss Pony’s cheek.

Jack let out a shriek that made my ears ring before he started kicking away beside my brothers. Soda pulled out a little rattle from his back pocket, and started playing with his son. Jack grabbed for the toy and brought it to his mouth while giggling at his dad. Soda laughed back before blowing raspberries onto Jack’s belly, which set him off giggling again. I smiled widely. It was contagious.

Pony’s eyes blinked a few times before they seemed to focus, and he looked down to his arm to see Jack cradled within the crooked lines. A sudden look of anguish covered his features, and he started to cry.

"Honey, what’s wrong? You okay?" Soda asked alarmed; stroking Pony’s hair again.

"I don’t wanna hurt him!" Pony sobbed, earning him another kiss from his brother.

"Whadaya mean, Pony? C’mon, you’d never hurt Jack. Look how much he loves you!" Soda leaned his forehead against Pony’s.

"I don’t wanna drop him. My arm, Soda! I’ll hurt him!"

"He’s on the bed, baby. You got nothin’ to worry about." I joined Soda in trying to ease Pony’s worry.

"Are you sure?" Ponyboy looked around the room, but it didn’t seem as though he could process where he was.

"I’d never lie to you, babe. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay." I shuffled closer to Pony, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Pony nodded before gazing down at Jack. I watched as he reached over with his right hand, tracing his finger along Jack’s round cheek. My heart ached with just how gentle and careful he was as he slowly curled his body around the baby.

"That’s it, kiddo. It’s okay; you could never hurt him." Soda smiled as he too, stretched out on the bed to make himself comfortable beside his son and his little brother.

Everything Sodapop had said seemed to ring true fully and completely. Love just grew bigger with no limits. There was no competition or pecking order. Our family had just grown to include this little baby. He may not have been planned, but he was anything but a mistake. He was meant to be, and for the first time on a long time, I felt whole again.


	42. Forty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

It was barely dawn when I rustled my brothers out of bed against their will. I had a sudden burst of nostalgia; a hair-brained scheme of spending some quality time together—just the three of us. The thought that there just wasn’t enough time; not enough memories between me and my two brothers scared the shit out of me, even though we’d shared a lifetime of moments together. I became obsessed on making these last moments count in case this was it. In case this was the end.

As much as I wouldn’t let my mind go there, I knew that there was a chance. Greg had gone all out for Soda _and_ for me by using whatever influence his professional status could muster to keep my brother off the front lines as much as possible. But this was still a war Soda would be going to, and if I’d been taught anything by life, it was that there was no certainty to it. Anything could happen. If God decided, He could snap His fingers this instant and take Soda away. A lot could happen in five months. So much had happened in just two months for Pony. A lifetime could happen and end, so I needed to shove a lifetime into this one day.

Soda seemed to already know as my fingers dragged through his short hair gently; coaxing his eyes to open and the corner of his mouth to curl up into a grin. Of course he knew—Sodapop knew me better than anyone. He always seemed to know what I was thinking or feeling without me having to explain myself. Until this past year, I’d never been comfortable enough to be sharing those deep feelings or those fears, and I’d never had to with Soda around. He just knew me, like he knew Ponyboy. Like he knew everyone he’d ever come in contact with. It was his gift, and his curse.

"’S goin’ on, Darry?" His voice was a little raspy as he was shaking out the cobwebs that came from a good night’s rest.

I looked at him and smiled. Everything felt so complete in me as I looked down to his shoulder and gazed at Ponyboy’s head resting on it. Soda smiled back before nodding at me. He knew. It’s what we used to do with our father around this time in June. We’d get up at the crack of dawn with his rifle or our fishing poles, huddle in the truck shoulder-to-shoulder and head out to the country. It didn’t even matter if we caught anything so long as we were together. Today, I just wanted us three to be together. Just in case.

"Whadaya think ‘bout headin’ down to Fountainhead? I’ll grab the gear and we can spend the day there—the three of us?" I whispered as I continued to play with Soda’s hair.

"What about Pony? Think he’ll be up for it?" Soda’s arm tightened around Pony’s lithe frame.

"Only one way to find out." I grinned and winked at my brother. He winked back.

"Pony," Soda leaned his head against his brother’s; nudging Pony’s forehead with his own. "C’mon, kiddo. Darry’s takin’ us out fishin’. Time to open those eyes."

Pony grimaced briefly; a small part of him aware of Soda trying to wake him up, but his more stubborn side was hanging on to sleep tooth and nail. Soda rolled over, pulling his arm out from beneath his brother before giving him an affectionate shove.

"C’mon, Pone. Darry the Drill Sergeant is at it again. Wakey, wakey!"

I rolled my eyes, but grinned. _Drill Sergeant._

"Ungh…" Pony barely moaned as he tried to curl back into Sodapop and fall back into unconscious bliss.

"I know, honey. You know how he gets. Up and at ‘em!" Soda hoisted his brother into a sitting position, and the cry Pony let out startled the both of us.

"Pony, You okay?"

"I’m sleeping!" Pony almost squeezed out a tear, and Soda looked as though he were biting the inside of his cheek to keep from busting out a laugh.

"I didn’t hurt you, did I?" Soda chuckled softly in his brother’s ear before kissing it.

"Wha?" Pony actually opened his eyes; adjusting to his surroundings and the fact that he was woken up at fuck o’clock in the morning.

"C’mon, little buddy, don’t make us tickle ya!" I laughed, sounding a little too cheerful even to myself.

_Two._

_Two days left._

I hauled Pony up by the armpits before he had a chance to close his eyes and nod off again. I held on to him while he swayed uneasily on his feet; trying to get his bearings. Sodapop rolled out from the other side and was yawning and stretching, no doubt more accustomed to this ass hour of the morning than Pony or even I was. His time in training had already changed a lot of things in him, and not just physically. He shoved his hands in his hair, messing it up before coming to stand behind Pony; wrapping his arms around Pony’s middle to keep him steady. Pony looked like somebody kicked his dog and didn’t tell him why.

"I got him, Darry. I’ll get him ready."

"Sure you don’t need any help?" I grinned as I held Pony’s face before leaning down to leave an apologetic kiss on his hair. I knew that he hadn’t been sleeping well, but I wanted to get a move on so we’d have more of the day to spend together.

"Nah, I got him."

"Alright, you two got fifteen minutes. We’ll grab a quick bite and then head off."

"You heard him, Pony. Let’s get some clothes on."

"I gotta pee! Why am I up? It’s dark!" Pony yelled sleepily.

"’Cause you gotta pee. You just said so yourself." Soda chuckled as he teased his brother; shuffling his feet and Pony’s across the floor towards the bathroom. I stayed behind, smiling at my youngest brother’s antics.

"Then I can go back to bed?"

"Nope! Then you’re gonna take your medicine and the three of us are gonna go fishin’ n’ swimmin’."

I passed the open door to the bathroom where my brothers had finally made it, and headed for the kitchen where I rummaged around for Pony’s medications.

"Don’t let Two-Bit pull my pants down, Soda!" Pony whined, still half-asleep and I could hear Soda laugh.

"Don’t worry, Pony. It’s just you, me, and Darry. Wash your hands, honey. I’ll get your shake ready."

"He gonna be okay?" I chuckled at Soda as he rushed out of the bathroom with a huge grin. I pointed to the table where I’d set out our brother’s usual cocktail of medications.

Soda huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, he’ll be right as rain when we get there. Lemme get his drink in him and we’ll throw some clothes on."

"Meet you out at the truck."

It was a Wednesday, and it was perfect except for the fact that we couldn’t freeze time. It was a day nothing else existed except three brothers, a couple of fishing poles, and the urgency that came with trying to shove a lifetime into a few measly hours. We eventually had to return home; to reality and the fact that the clock continued its cruel count-down.

"He asleep?" Soda asked quietly as I shuffled tiredly to the couch, and let myself sink beside my brother. I’d just finished laying with Ponyboy; the obligatory thirty minutes required for him to fall asleep.

"For now," I commented absently as I stared at the black screen of the television. It was off.

"When are we plannin’ to talk about this?"

Of course Sodapop would end up being the adult. While I spent the last few days pretending that the Vietnam war didn’t exist and my brother wasn’t going to be dropped down into the middle of it, Soda was quietly biding his time for the opportune moment to air it all out and face it head-on. My brother had been doing it a lot the past year—being the grown up while I was running away from the truth and from what was really happening.

"You wanna talk now." It wasn’t a question. I could feel what I’d been denying for so long getting ready to swallow me. "What about Ponyboy?"

"We’ll have a talk with him tomorrow. He’s already messed up about it all."

"We all are, Soda." I huffed out an incredulous laugh. "None of this is gonna be easy on him; on any of us. It’s not gonna matter when we talk about it. Talking doesn’t change things."

"Whadaya want me to do, Darry? Tell me and I’ll do it." Soda’s eyes were pleading. They were sincere.

"Take the truck and drive. You drive, and you keep driving."

"Awe, c’mon Darry, be serious! Where ‘m I gonna go?" Soda looked at me like I was crazy. I didn’t know, but I was desperate enough to suggest that my brother dodge the war and our Country.

"Canada. You’ll be safe there. I heard that a lot of draftees are crossing the border. They can’t send you to war if they can’t find you."

"And live like Dally or Shepard? Always looking behind me wonderin’ if somebody’s figured out who I am? You want me to live on the run?"

"Yes!...No!...Yes!...Fuck, Soda I don’t know, but anything is better than the alternative!"

The truth was, I didn’t have the answers. I didn’t want my brother to live like a fugitive, but I didn’t want to lose him to the horrors of war either. It didn’t matter which way was which, I knew that whatever was decided, I was going to have to let Soda go.

"We’re split up any way you look at it, Darry. I got a kid to think about now, and I wasn’t blowin’ smoke up your ass before when I said I wanted to take care of Pony, because I do. This sucks, Darry but I might actually be able to make some good outta this. I can’t do that if I run. Even if I did run, I wouldn’t be able to keep in touch, and I can’t do that, Darry! I can’t live if I don’t got you guys."

"We can work it out; make a plan. I’ll find you. I’ll…"

"Stop! This is crazy!" Soda cried as he got up off the couch abruptly.

"It ain’t crazy wanting to keep you safe, Soda!"

"We been through this, Darry…"

"Look, you said yourself that Steve didn’t even want you anywhere near there. It’s a fuckin’ war, Soda!"

"Darry, I know you’re scared. Man, I am too but I ain’t backin’ out. And don’t gimme that look ‘cause you wouldn’t back out either if it were you goin’ insteada me."

The fight to keep Soda home had run its course and I knew it. I sighed defeated. My heart thudded uncomfortably as I finally let go.

"I’m a Curtis, Darry not a coward. I ain’t runnin’ away from this. I made my bed and I’ll go lay in it and keep my boy Stevie safe in the meantime." Soda’s voice was calm and certain as he slowly sat back down beside me on the couch.

And it finally hit me that Soda really had become a man. He was right; he wasn’t doing anything different than what I would be doing if the tables were turned. It’s how we were raised. It’s how our dad taught us—never give up. Don’t run away, but face whatever it is head-on. It was the reason there were still the three of us brothers instead of just two. We didn’t give up on Ponyboy while he was lying half-dead in a hospital bed, and he didn’t give up either. It was in our blood to fight.

"You’re right." I spoke quietly.

"Wha? I don’t think I heard ya. Wanna try my other ear?" Sodapop was due his credit, and I knew that I’d never hear the end of it when I gave him it.

"I said you’re right." I rolled my eyes. "But you’ll always be my little buddy, and I’m always gonna do everything I can to keep you outta trouble. It’s my job."

"And I love you for it, Darry. I always know you got me no matter what shit I land myself in. It’ll be okay! Eighteen months and I’ll be back home with you in my hair again." Soda smiled that smile, and I almost believed him.

He made it sound so easy, but I knew it would be anything but. Even if his time on the front lines would be limited, the things he’d see and do would follow him for the rest of his life. War changed people. It scared me to think about how it would change Soda. He’d already been scarred by the war our baby brother was still fighting.

I let my hand rub back and forth across my forehead tiredly, and Soda’s arm stretched around to pull me into him. I wanted to keep it together for him, but this battle took everything that I had. I felt my hand start it’s unforgiving tremble as I dropped it into my lap. I had to remind myself that the cupboards were empty of booze; that I’d have no choice but to face this sober when Sodapop reached across himself to hold my hand steady.

"I’m glad I got to come back, even if it was only for a short while. I had no right leavin’ you guys the way I did before, and I’ll always be sorry for that, Darry. I’ll always be sorry for what I did to you two. Please forgive me."

I turned my head to see his soft brown eyes plead with me, and it was decided. I slouched down on the couch, bringing my legs up to rest on the coffee table while I rested my head against Soda’s shoulder.

"Forgiven," I choked; swallowing hard so that I wouldn’t beg him to stay again.


	43. Forty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life. It can be tough when you've grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. But one thing is for certain; all roads lead to home. A sequel to "Is Your Love Strong Enough".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for “All Roads Lead to Home”, but the story continues. Thank you to all that have read, left kudos, and we’re kind enough to leave a comment or two. Please watch out for the final story “The Cost of Freedom”.

_Darry,_

_Before I start, I sent you a little extra money. Don’t give me grief about it. Pony’s birthday is coming up. Sweet 16 can you believe it? I can’t stand it that I won’t be there to help celebrate with you guys. A year ago we didn’t even think he’d make it to 15. Sometimes I still can’t believe he’s alive after all he had to go through.16 Darry! 16!_

_It’s gonna be hard for him so don’t let him alone, okay? He’ll pretend he’s alright like he always does, but that’s just him hiding. He thinks he’s weak, but you and me know better. Don’t let him hide, Darry. Take him out for a drive or go out bowling or something. Two-Bit should be good for getting him out of his head too, but I think he’s scared of Tim no offence. You’re gonna have to spoil him rotten for me, and make sure you tell me all about it. I’m counting on you._

_Well, it’s only been a couple of weeks over here and I already hate it. I don’t know how I’m gonna last a year or whenever the army decides I’ve made my contribution. I don’t even know what I’m doing, Darry. I got the training plus everything Greg taught me, but I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. I know it should get a little easier with time, but the thought of that scares me just the same._

_We get up at 5 a.m., walk all day, set up camp around 5 p.m., dig foxholes, eat, then set out on an all night ambush in the jungle. It’s scary being one of the new guys ‘cause nobody talks to me unless it’s to bark orders or call me names. They don’t even know my real name probably. Nobody cares about the new guys. Steve, thank god for him, explained it as something like new guys haven’t put their time in therefore they’re not worth as much and I guess it makes sense. New bodies are just there to replace the ones going home in a metal box. I don’t blame them, but I hope I never get to the point where I feel that way. I don’t ever wanna be that way._

_It sure would be lonely if Steve weren’t here._

_Steve is safe. He’s a good soldier and fits in well with the guys. He’s been on point 3 times this week already. I know he’s got a few weeks more than I do, but it’s weird to me that it’s the same Steve from the east side, and the same one we grew up with. Steve my best buddy, a greaser just like me. But most of the guys here ain’t much different than us. They’re all the bottom of the barrel just like the greasers in Tulsa. Tulsa. I miss Tulsa, Darry. Never thought that day would ever come._

_I’m following a guy they call Herman for the next few weeks. I don’t know what his real name is, everyone has a nickname. Unlike in Steve’s case, I’m replacing him cause he got his orders home. He’s here to show me the ropes before I’m on my own. He’s a great medic. He’s patient with me—not like the Lt. who calls everyone "fuckstick, nitwit, dipshit, or shit-for-brains" like it’s printed on their birth certificate. Herman knows his stuff. The guys trust him. I’ve got a lot to live up to and it won’t be easy. Three guys got hit on that night ambush we set up. A claymore tore off one’s arm (he’s going home). Two others got shot by the VC. We patched one up but the other guy didn’t make it. He came in the same day I did._

_Don’t tell Pony. I know he’s worrying himself about me being gone. He don’t need to know about the heavy stuff. It ain’t the same as lying to him is it? I don’t wanna lie to him, Darry. I just wanna protect him. Maybe if you think he’ll be okay with it, you can tell him one day. You’d know better about that stuff anyways. You’re the better dad._

_I miss you. Write when you can._

_Love Sodapop_

* * *

"He okay?" I stood up from the table as Greg made his way from my bedroom.

"I don’t know, Darry. He’s not talking to me or to Soda." Greg’s face was grim. "Soda told him he’s leaving tomorrow. Could explain his behaviour. Soda’s making sure he’s drinking his formula—there isn’t much I can do, Darry. I’m sorry."

"No, it’s okay. I should’ve expected this, I guess. Thank you, Greg." The kitchen became blurry as my eyes unfocused.

_One day left._

_Our last day._

I was stupid and naïve to think Pony would react any other way once he found out that Sodapop was going to be leaving once again. Soda was Pony’s everything, and if they weren’t brothers one would wonder, but I never did. That’s just how it was between them since day one. Brothers that just happened to be soulmates. Where one went, the other would follow.

"They’re special," Greg gave voice to what I’d always known, and I could only nod in reply as my throat started to close.

"Darry? Hey…" Greg slowly walked towards me and let his hands rest on my shoulders while he looked at me intently. "Are you okay? I can’t even imagine how much stress you’ve been under…since I’ve met you. I’m here, Darry. I want to help."

"Don’t you think you’ve done enough?" I felt sad as I looked at Greg, wondering if he hung around just because he spent his life with no family of his own.

"You guys mean a lot to me. Ponyboy’s everything; he’s my miracle patient. He’s the reason I keep doing what I do. Every time I look at him…I…"

"I know."

"Of course you do." Greg smiled. "I’m going to miss Soda; his energy and positivity. He’ll be back though, Darry. I don’t think anyone can bring him down when he’s got you and Ponyboy in his corner. You guys really are the best. Your friends are too."

"You know that includes you, right? You’re family to us, Greg." I looked at Greg carefully, wanting him to know how important he was, and that he _did_ have a family even if it wasn’t blood.

"Then I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Thank you, Darry." His eyes were bright as he smiled genuinely. "Listen, I really suck with goodbyes. Can you give Soda this. I want him to carry it with him."

Greg placed a gold pin into my hand and I looked down at it. It was two snakes wrapped around a staff. There were also wings.

"My caduceus." Greg smiled fondly. "Got this when I graduated med school. I want Soda to have it. I want him to know there’s more out there for him—for all of you. I’m hoping it’ll help guide him home."

I nodded, knowing I’d need a moment to get my bearings before being able to speak again. Greg’s kindness was unparalleled. Nobody in his kind of position had ever gave us the time of day. We were just greasers—poor and unwanted by society. The forgotten. But one heinous, heartbreaking moment for us had also sent this wonderful human being our way, and I couldn’t help but hear my dad’s voice:

" _Everything in life happens for a reason."_

"I’ll make sure that he gets it—takes it with him." My voice sounded like gravel; I was seconds away from falling into a well of tears.

"Please? Thank you, Darry."

Greg timidly pulled me into an awkward hug, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to cross that line. I rolled my eyes and shook my head before pulling him in closer to break the oddness. His position in this family was official. There was no more need to be formal. Greg was one of us.

"C’mon, Greg. The door’s always open for you. You make like you’re sayin’ goodbye to _all_ of us." I pulled away and rubbed his arm encouragingly, trying to break down that wall he always seemed to put up.

Greg smiled that smile again; the genuine one that lights up his whole face, like someone just told him he won the lottery.

"Okay. We’ll talk soon!" Greg smiled at me again before turning to leave. He suddenly stopped. "Darry, call me if you need…anything, okay? Even if it’s…if you need a friend to talk to."

"I’ll do that, Greg. Same goes for you, right?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, then smiled when he nodded on his way out the door.

"You two seem cozy."

Tim Shepard’s voice from behind me made me jump. The guy was as silent as a snake; popping up and scaring the life out of you at the most unpredictable time and place.

"Jesus Christ, wear a bell!" I snapped, but it only made Tim grin.

"You might wanna watch yourself with that one, Curtis." Tim cocked his head in the direction of the door, looking at me with an amused expression.

"Don’t be like that. He ain’t from this side of town, but he’s a good man, Tim. Saved Ponyboy more than just once. Soda too. I owe him my life."

"Yeah, he’s a fairy nice guy." Tim grinned at me, and I looked at him hoping I’d misheard his hateful tongue.

"What?"

"Oh, c’mon Darry! He’s a fuckin’ faggot! You don’t see the way he looks at you?" Tim laughed at me, and I felt a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it wasn’t because I was disappointed if what Tim said was actually truth.

"Tim, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I don’t even know how I’m gonna ever pay you back, but just don’t. Don’t pull that bullshit where Greg’s concerned because if it comes down to you or him, I’ll probably pick him." I stared at Tim hard.

"No need to get your gonch in a twist, Curtis. Just lookin’ out for ya. But don’t come cryin’ to me when he makes a grab for your dick. He’s got the hots for ya. That’s all I’m sayin’."

"Who’s got the hots for who?" Two-Bit sauntered into the kitchen in his usual disheveled condition.

I gave Tim a glare, but he piped up anyway. "The good doctor likes men with big muscles."

"Darry ya mean?" Two-Bit looked at Tim for clarification. Tim looked awful smug.

Two-Bit seemed uninterested as he shrugged Tim’s comment off, and although I could feel the heat radiating from my face, it made me feel good knowing Two-Bit didn’t share Tim’s narrow view.

"Hell, he can fuck horses for all I care. Doc is good people, Tim. What he does in the privacy of his own life…" Two-Bit shrugged again before shoving a chunk of chocolate cake in his mouth.

"Even if it’s with Darry?" Tim snickered.

"Well, I don’t know. That depends on Darry, I guess." Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow at me.

I rolled my eyes. "I _am_ still in the room y’know."

"If there’s a weddin’, I’m invited right?" Two-Bit cackled, and Tim gave a snort through his nose.

"You two are assholes; quit bein’ so obtuse! _If_ he does share his bed with other fellas, and that’s a big _if_ , it ain’t none of our business and it sure as hell doesn’t change the fact that he’s a stand-up guy!"

"Awe, c’mon Superman. You know I don’t care. After everything…Greg is one of us, man. I’d kill for that guy." Two-Bit slapped my back before turning back to the chocolate cake that was left on the counter.

"Thanks, Two-Bit."

"Just remember to name your first kid after me."

"Fuck you!" I laughed.

"Exactly!"

* * *

_Ponyboy,_

_Heya kiddo! How are you? Gosh but I miss you so much! I can hardly stand it! I couldn’t wait to get settled over here so I could sit down to write you and let you know I’m okay and that I’m thinking of you. Once you get this and the address where I’m at I want you to write me all the time okay? If Darry bitches that the postage costs too much I’ll send you the money myself. I wanna hear everything you have to say, or read I guess I should say._

_I’m sorry I’m gonna miss your birthday. I hate missing it, but I want you to be strong for me just like we talked about, okay? I want you to be strong and get out there and have a happy birthday because nobody deserves it more than you do. I’m so proud that you’re my baby brother. I want you to know that. I’ll be there for the next birthday and I promise, you and me are gonna do it up right. You’re my best guy, Pony. Be strong for me and I’ll be strong for you and we’ll get through this together, I promise._

_You’re probably wondering what it’s like over here. Well, Vietnam isn’t like any place I’ve ever even heard of. If there weren’t this war going on, it might actually be beautiful Pony. The jungle is so green and overrun with trees I ain’t ever seen before! Maybe it looks like those fancy palm trees in California but I’m not sure. I stuck a leaf in with this letter. I figured with your imagination you could picture what I’m trying to say._

_Days are hot, and I don’t care too much for the weather. Night is the best, especially when it’s quiet and the sky is clear. The stars are all out there and I think about you. I know it’s hard being apart but we still share the same sky Pony. I want you to remember that if it feels bad and hurts too much. Just look up at the stars and I will too, and it’ll be like I’m there beside you. I love you Pony. Please write soon!_

_Love Sodapop_

_P.S. Steve says hi!_

* * *

  
The drive to the bus depot was deathly quiet. There was no production as we left the house besides a few tears from Two-Bit as he and Soda said their goodbyes. Two-Bit, much like Greg didn’t like long and drawn out farewells. Plus, there was a work day for him to get through, so he wasn’t able to ride with us as we dropped Soda off to leave.

The bus was just starting to load when I killed the engine; the truck directly behind the rear of it. The three of us looked like ghosts as we stared blankly at the dash, knowing that the inevitable had finally come, and that this was going to hurt like hell.

"You let me know as soon as you’re settled in? I’m gonna wanna know where you’re at." My voice cracked as I tried to kill the silence.

Soda cleared his throat. "Yeah…Yeah. I’ll reach out as soon as I can ‘n let you know where to write."

Pony hadn’t said a word in almost two days.

There was so much to say, and yet not enough words or even time to do it. The bus ahead was nearly loaded, and the sound of the passenger door to the truck opening startled all three of us.

"It’s time guys." Soda said bravely as he slid out of the passenger side and held his hand out for Pony.

I didn’t want to watch the two of them say goodbye, but I made my way around to the other side of the truck and had no choice as my two brothers stood there trying not to fall apart. I was ready to beg my brother once more to stay, but I followed his example. He was keeping his composure better than I thought he’d ever be able to. His hand was on the back of Pony’s head to keep contact, but neither of them could look at each other.

"You remember what I said, okay Pony? You mind Darry. I need you to keep an eye on him for me. He needs you when things get bad, ya dig? You take good care of each other." He squeezed slightly before letting go to fetch his duffle bag from the back of the truck.

"Darry…" Soda nodded at me before lifting an arm; reaching over Pony to give me an awkward hug.

It didn’t feel real. The embrace was over before it even started, but I didn’t say anything. Soda was keeping it together and I didn’t want to do anything to upset him. It would be a long eight hours for him on that bus, and I didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was.

"Pony," Soda’s voice was raspy as he kissed the top of his brother’s head. "You stay strong, okay? You got Two-Bit, or you can even call Greg if you need. You’re not alone."

Pony nodded, but remained silent even as Soda abruptly broke away from his brother, and made his way behind the two men that were left to board onto the bus. Soda didn’t look back at us, and my heart broke for him as I noticed him wipe impatiently at his eyes with a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling.

I moved to stand behind Pony, and let my hands rest on his shoulders as though I could somehow ground him. I knew that his heart was in pieces, but he stood strong knowing that was what Soda needed. He stood strong until the bus was fully loaded with our brother. The door closed and slowly shifted into gear.

I heard the high pitched whine and thought it was the bus’s engine until memories flooded my senses of a little over a year ago. It was the same sound I’d made in that dark and dank bedroom my youngest brother had been kept in. My voice whining out like a deer that’s taken a hit, knowing it can’t do anything but surrender to whatever comes next.

I didn’t realize the sound was coming from him until Pony broke out from underneath my hold, and tried to run for the bus. He didn’t get far; his legs not able to move the way they once did, and Pony was suddenly sprawled out, face-first on the asphalt of the bus depot.

"SODA!"

I saw him reach up for the bus, and I had to close my eyes. If I thought my heart couldn’t break any further, I was proven otherwise. My feet carried me towards the sound of Pony’s wailing, but I couldn’t help but hide my eyes behind shaking hands. It was all just too much for me.

"Soda…" his voice broke as he struggled pathetically to get up; only making it to his knees before the ear piercing sound of brakes cut through the morning.

I swallowed hard as unshed tears made their way out, and Sodapop was through the door of the bus. He ran the short distance like his life depended on it, and the three of us were suddenly on our knees together for God and everyone to see.

"I’m sorry, Pony. I’m so sorry, baby. Forgive me! Please! I’m so sorry for doing this to you!" Soda bawled into his brother’s hair, and Pony clung to him desperately.

"I tried to be strong! I tried, Soda but I can’t! It hurts too much! Why does it hurt so much? Make it stop!" Pony was begging, but there was nothing we could do for him.

"I can’t, honey. I’m so sorry, but I can’t this time. You just gotta hang tight and be strong. You just gotta think of me and know that I love you more than anything, alright? I’m gonna be back for ya as soon as I can, okay?"

"And Darry too!" Pony cried into his brother’s neck. Soda’s eyes met mine.

"Always Darry, baby. Always Darry. Us three against the world, right?"

The bus driver honked the horn, and suddenly we were brought back. Soda lifted Pony up, and I slowly followed suit; standing behind Pony so that he was between me and Soda.

There was no masking our feelings this time; they were open and raw for everyone to witness. Soda and I clung to one another, effectively mashing Ponyboy between the two of us. We nodded to one another when we were through; knowing where we stood without needing words.

"You’re my best guy, Pony!" Soda smiled down at his brother despite the tears covering his cheeks. "I love you, kiddo…I love you. Don’t you forget it!"

"I won’t." Pony managed to hiccup.

Soda held Pony’s face and then let his lips rest on his brother’s forehead. He closed his eyes, winding his arms around Pony, and held him tightly for a moment. And then that moment was gone.

My arms wrapped around Pony protectively—possessively as we watched Sodapop jog back to the door of the bus. Before he stepped back on, he shot us a smile; a smile that only Sodapop Curtis could muster, to let us know that everything was going to be okay.

"I love you!" He hollered.

He shot us a peace sign before the door closed behind him, and the bus drove away.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.


End file.
